Football Wives
by Jay Cameron
Speeding down a six-lane highway, drawn away from the bright lights of the city, a very expensive SUV. The sunroof is open, even though the sun was racing toward the horizon. Occasionally a hand clutching an open wine cooler would appear outside the speeding vehicle followed by the obligatory, "Yahoo... Yeehaw... or Fuck yeah!"
If you see this, you will know it's wives on the warpath. On this Thursday night, it's that race to an out-of-the-way Hotel. Why is the car driving so fast? Simple... Husbands left for the stadium directly from the office. They needed to grab a bite to eat, and there's the changing of clothes in the office bathroom so they look like the real fans they claim. The football game is over in three hours, another hour to sober up enough for their husbands to drive home safely. So, if the wives of these fools plan it right, they will be home washed and in bed pretending to be asleep long before the spouse pulls his stupid ass into the garage.
All of these shenanigans should let you know that somewhere along the way. These women sat down together and made a detailed plan to get fucked by someone.... not their husbands.
Don't be misled by tonight's joyous display. They have gone to see all the male strippers that took all their extra cash. They have been so drunk on a few occasions; they spilled all the disgusting things about their lives and husbands to anyone sober enough to listen.
Husband number one is a CPA at an accounting firm. His name is Jordan Wilson. He's not very stud-like. He's Five foot eight. Jordan carries a little too much weight around his waist; after all, he's an accountant sitting on his ass all day looking at numbers. The guy could.... let's just say when the angels were handing out peckers, he went through the line twice. Nerds are like that.
Now, as for Jordon's wife Sally, she was kidnapped directly out of the angel chorus. She was given, by her grandparents, a boob job as a graduation gift. Her black hair was naturally straight and flowed over her shoulders like hot fudge over ice cream.
Then there is Ashley, a sparkling bundle of energy who is the owner, and fulltime manager of a Co-Ed Gym, Pool, and Nutrition Bar. When she and her family were late for church on Sunday. She and her husband would have to sit in the front pew. It seems the Pastor had a hard time not looking up her dress. Not that Ashley cared. She was proud of her body, and somehow, she figured if God didn't want anyone to look at it, then he/she wouldn't have done such an outstanding job when he put it together.
Now we come to Ashley's husband, Samual Ford. This is where it gets a little strange. Ashley is a hardworking, self-driven woman. Her husband is an obnoxious busy body that inherited the family money when his parents disappeared on an outing to Kodiak Island. They wanted to film the famous or infamous Kodiak Bear in its natural setting. Go figure... Who knew Bears don't like being filmed while giving birth.
There was a third woman in the car, "designated driver", Jennifer Grimes. If your mind can visualize a shapely twenty-year-old natural blond. She was about five-foot five in flip-flops. Her boobs were God-given, and just over a handful to any famous basketball player. To let you know where her mind is tonight. She brought with her a laptop so she could busy herself catching up on her college courses. Jennifer also is the first person you meet when you visit Ashley's Gymnasium. So, you can see, she has a job, and she'll do all she can to do it well.
Let's take a break here and go back in time when two of these three women were getting the idea there was something out there that would scratch their itches a little better than what they had at home.
First there was Ashley, the hot bundle of dynamite that was working late one day at the Gym. It had been a very long, hot, and very tiring day; even for Ashley. There were still a few clients that had to schedule their workouts late because of work. Since the gym was open twenty-for/seven there were still people grinding away on the machines. Ashley noticed the cleaning crew had just arrived to give the Gym its once over for the next day.
As Ashey was finishing her personal routine, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her thigh. "Ouch.... What the fuck was that?" She grabbed her thigh and was attempting to rub out the pain.
Just as she said those words, one of her male clients was walking past on his way home. "Ash... what's wrong?"
"I don't know, I think I pulled a muscle." she replied, stating the obvious.
"You know I'm a trained masseuse. I'm certain I could help you." Terry Jones, a long-time client of the Gym offered his services.
Now let's not let this moment pass without a little further explanation. Terry Jones was not a favorite of the women that frequented the Gym. No one had ever seen his face. He was covered with a thirty-year growth of facial hair. This many times is used to hide a facial flaw in some men. Other men get the idea it's a sign of being macho. Of course, there are other men that feel women want a man with a Brillo-pad cleaning their thighs during oral sex. However you personally feel, in this case, Terry just never shaved....ever.
On the spur of the moment, Terry asks if he could touch her thigh and see if he could detect anything wrong.
Ashley put up her stone wall, but then as she tried to move, another stabbing pain prevented it. "Yeah.....yeah, see if you can do something." Ashley pleaded.
Terry touched, squeezed, and just generally fondled the back of Ashly's thigh till he was certain he had found the culprit causing her all this pain. Doing what a masseuse would do, he put his thumbs together and, using just the sweat of her body as lubricant, watched as Ashley's body raised itself up in a curve and screamed.
"Jesus H Christ...what the fuck are you doing to me?" She was eyeball to eyeball with her torturer. "Wait a minute...." she said. "It's gone." Ashley smiled and swung her feet around to stand up. She hugged Terry and called him a miracle worker. Then looking him square in the eye she said, "I'd give you a big ole wet kiss If I could find your mouth in all that hair."
Terry offered to give Ashley a message any time she needed, and Ashley promised to recommend him to her clientele that just needed a quick tune-up. Other than quick easy promises to each other, the day came to an end for both. Ashley went to the shower and Terry walked out the front door to the parking lot.
Then there was a weekend spent with friends. First, a chips and salsa-fest at Ashley and Samual's house watching the local college team get humiliated. Then the cookout next to the hot tub. It was way too cold to even think about getting wet with outdoor temperatures this cold.
The next day, Sunday, it started all over again but this time there was no cookout. Sally and Jordan Wilson put on a feast to watch their local Pro Football Team get beat with three seconds on the clock and a place kicker from the opposing team. He was dead centering a fifty-four-field goal. To beat all else, no one in the house could pronounce his name; damn foreigner from Pennsylvania.
Anyway, that night was quiet in both houses. Sally took this time to wonder how she ever got involved with her stupid-ass husband.... Oh, yeah there was that money thing... housewife forever.
In Ashley's case, it was just another Sunday night. Working out a special routine for one client and then getting another ready. Figuring out how many would she have in her group class, and making up a routine that would make everyone happy, and not kill anyone in the process. Somewhere in there, she had to get all the other crap ready for another week. "And I thought I was going to be a normal housewife when I got married." She said to herself, glancing up at the clock on the home-office desk.
Days start early in the Gym business, and Ashley jumped right in. She got the reports on all the weekend activity, she met with her spin class, and then took her first break to visit the Snack-Bar. Her husband called and said he would be working very late tonight and not to fix him a dinner.
That was the best news she heard in the last month. "Wow.... how am I going to spend my night off tonight?" She jokingly thought to herself. "I could always stand in the corner and yell insults at myself since I won't have my husband around to do that for me." Ashley, always the go-getter, plastered a smile on her face and fought her way through the day.
"Yeah"...Ashley exclaimed as she finished her last class. It was time for a shower and to lock up her office and happily turn her duties over to the competent and well-paid help that kept the doors open and the cash flowing.
When she entered her office there was a man sitting in a chair across the desk from her personal chair. "What can I do for you sir?" She was still running a brush through her hair to make certain it was dry.
When the man turned to face her, she didn't recognize him. But when he spoke Ashly brought out her best smile. "Terry Jones.... You shaved!" Ashley walked over to him and ran her hand over his face. "I approve.... you're a handsome devil behind all that hair." She had him stand up and grabbed his face in both her hands. "I owe you something." and she pressed her lips to his. "There" she said. "I think that pays my debt."
Terry smiled broadly.
Ashley stepped away and the two continued their critic of the new Terry. After a while, Terry reminded Ashley about his promise for a full massage. And Ashley couldn't agree fast enough.
"When can you book me in?" Ashley asked her friend.
"How 'bout right now.?"
"Terry," Ashley said. "I just got out of the shower and dressed." Almost scolding her newly shaved friend. "I got an idea. Why don't I take you to dinner and we can figure out when you can give me a massage?"
"I got a better idea.... you let me cook you dinner and then I can give you that massage."
Just one tick of the clock before Ashley was to say, "no." She stopped to reconsider the question. Possibilities began running through her computer-like brain. "No to dinner, but I will go to your shop for the massage."
Both people nodded, and after a few minutes of small-talk, the couple walked out of the Gym and continued down the Strip-mall to Terry's "House of Relief Massage Parlor."
