The Last Game of the Season

The events I'm about to describe happened two and a half year ago and I still can't get them out of my mind.

As background, we've been married 20 plus years, second marriage for both of us. Typical story all hot and bothered the first five, busy with the kids the next ten or so, trying to spice things up the last six or seven. I've always had a sharing disposition but she was raised in a strict Baptist home. This caused some friction and frustration on my part for a good number of years. Then as the kids grew older, she started to loosen up, flash a little, flirt a little, dress a little less conservatively, I'm sure lots of you have been through the same experience. I loved the changes and wanted them to continue but it seemed like she took two or three steps toward becoming a hot wife then retreated back to her old self. At first it seemed erratic so I started a calendar using a spreadsheet. Each month I'd track her behavior and map it to her menstrual cycle. Things still didn't make any sense so I added alcohol consumption and location. I started to add little notes about who was present before and during these "events," and finally added the phase of the moon to my little tracking calendar. By about 2003 I had sufficient data that while I couldn't predict her behavior I could identify the opportunities where "something" might happen. I've since kept a pretty good record of her hot wife behavior by keying in cryptic notes the morning after each event. What follows was reconstructed from about two pages of notes and my own vivid memory of the day.

Sunday, January 2, 2005 was the last regular season football game for our local professional football team. It was a 1PM game and depending on the performance of Buffalo, Jacksonville, and Denver, we still had a chance for a wild-card playoff berth if our team could win the game. To secure the final conference wild-card spot, we needed to win our game, have Buffalo lose to Pittsburgh, Denver lose to Indianapolis and Jacksonville either tie or lose to Oakland. Margaret and I dressed in jeans and our team football shirts left the house at about noon to head over to our local watering hole, Sailors' Inn, to watch the game. We got there early enough to greet all the usual crowd of friends that congregate there before settling into to our usual seats for the kick-off.

It was a good game and each time our team scored, a round of "Team shooters" was setup for the local supporters. A team shooter is a concoction of Grape Pucker, Vodka, and some 7UP which can be quite potent. During the game we found out that Buffalo lost which increased our excitement and led to yet another celebratory team shooter. Finishing the game with three touch-downs and three field kicks gave us a 30 -- 23 win. It also gave all the locals a total of seven shooters during the game. Once we had the win in the bag, we then had to sit back and wait the scores of two other late-afternoon games to determine our play-off future.

Most of our friends stayed to watch for the results of the later games. We spent the afternoon and evening drinking as the news came in that both Jacksonville and Denver won their respective games giving Denver the final conference wild-card slot. It was about this time that Margaret switched to her favorite drink, a double white Sambuca over ice and most of the locals wandered home.

By nine o'clock there was only the hard-core fans, Jim, Bob, Mark, George, Margaret and I left along with about five or six other folks in the bar. Jack, one of the bar tenders was cleaning out the back of the bar and found a Sailors' shirt which he gave to Mark. It was a men's white dress shirt with the Sailors Inn logo over the right breast. Mark took it out of the packaging shook it out and presented it to Margaret as a consolation prize since our team's season was now over. Meg accepted the shirt and laid it in over her purse but Mark told her to try it on. With a little encouragement from Jim and Bob she pulled her football shirt over her head, giving everyone a view of her black bra and proceeded to put her arms through the sleeves of the Sailors shirt. She only had the bottom two buttons on the shirt fastened when I commented that she couldn't wear a black bra with a white shirt. I'm not sure if she agreed, or if the Sambuca agreed, but she stopped buttoning the shirt, reached up her back and un-hooked her bra. She then did that "reach up her sleeve thing" to take the straps off of her arms before pulling the bra out of the front of the shirt and giving it to me. When she pulled her bra off, I had a clear view of both her tits and although I'm not sure who else saw them, anybody in front of her who was paying attention couldn't help but get an eyeful as her wonderful tits hung free. Once she had given me her bra, she continued to button the shirt up but left the top three buttons undone. The open neck of the shirt provided a nice view of her cleavage that would be acceptable in any company.

The six of us stayed at Sailors talking and drinking for the next hour. Bob, George, and I were talking about the winter work that needed to be done on our boats while Jim, Mark, and Margaret were having their own conversation. Somewhere about ten o'clock, Bob suggested that since his girlfriend was out of town we head over to his house. We finished our drinks and as we walked through the parking lot I noticed that several more buttons on Margaret's shirt had been loosened and it was open to below her breasts. I didn't say anything, but just enjoyed the view as I drove over to Bob's

Once everyone had arrived and Bob got us each a beer we pretty much stood around talking. Bob has a fairly small house with only a sofa and one chair in his living room. Over the next hour or so, I spent my time in various conversations with various folks at times in the living room, at times in the kitchen, and at times out in the back yard smoking. All the while I'm moving around the house talking with different guys Margaret was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room talking mostly to Mark. The first time I passed them going into the living room, she was leaning against the door frame and Mark was standing in the living room facing her. Her shirt was in the same condition it had been in the car. The view from in front showed her cleavage and the inside curve of both of her breasts but as I passed her the side view revealed most of her right breast almost to the nipple. When I passed ten minutes later to go outside for a smoke, Mark or she had opened two of the buttons from the bottom of the shirt so that only two buttons were left holding it together.

After my smoke, as I came through the kitchen I asked if anybody need a drink from the refrigerator. Picking up a few bottles of beer I made me way around giving everyone that wanted one a beer. When I passed into the living room, there was only one button left fastened on Margaret's shirt and Mark had his hand under the shirt and resting on her hip. I gave Bob, George, and Jim a beer and got involved in their conversation while silently praying that Mark would continue his quest to get all the buttons on Margaret's shirt undone. A couple of minutes later, Mark called Jim over to where he and Margaret were standing and as far as I can tell he was asking Jim's opinion on something. Since they both had their backs to me and I didn't want to seem nosy, I couldn't hear what they were talking about. Mark said something to Margaret and Jim seemed to agree by nodding his head "yes". A couple of seconds later they both took a step backwards and Jim told Mark he had been right. Since they were standing so close together I couldn't see Margaret and had no idea what Mark had been right about. Then Mark turned around to the rest of us and said, "Come over here, doesn't Meg look much better now!"

Bob, George, and I crossed the room while Jim and Mark each stood to the side of Margaret and we were all treated to the sight of her shirt open wide and hanging down the outside of her breasts. As each of the guys commented on how wonderful she looked, you could easily see her nipples getting harder and harder. Once everyone had offered a comment, she took a hold of each side of the shirt and draped it over her breasts to cover them without attempting to re-button it. Bob, George and I went back to our conversation with Jim and Mark stayed talking to Margaret. The next time I passed them to go to the toilet, her shirt was open again with her breasts on display to Jim and Mark and they seemed to be having a conversation about nipples. I passed through the doorway and gently pinched her left nipple while feeling my dick starting to get hard. Peeing with a partial hard-on was tough and when I finished and was coming out of the bathroom Jim asked if I wanted to outside for a smoke. Outside, he asked me how far I thought Margaret would go and I told him that I had no idea we'd just have to wait and see.

On the way back into the house we were intercepted in the kitchen by both Bob and George who proceeded to give us each another beer and start a conversation about who would likely win the Super-Bowl. Glancing toward the living room, I saw Margaret and Mark still standing in the doorway. Margaret had her back to me but it was obvious her shirt was still open. Several minutes into the conversation about the Super-Bowl, Bob referenced some article he'd been reading in the local newspaper so the four of us went back into the living room while he searched for the paper. From this vantage we all had a clear view of Margaret's exposed tits and the fact that Mark was continually rubbing and stroking her nipples. While they were talking, he would rub his palm in small circles over her one nipple then he'd switch to the other and gently squeeze it. Over the next fifteen minutes or so, each of the guys found a reason to join the conversation Mark and Margaret were having. As each one, including me joined the conversation, Mark would relinquish his hold on one of her tits and the new guy would start fondling and playing with the released breast.

Bob came back from a trip to the kitchen to announce that we were almost out of beer. Since it was Sunday night the decision was made to go down to the strip bar at the end of Bob's street to sit and get a few more drinks. Hearing that we're going out to a strip joint, Mark decides to make sure Margaret can't button her shirt by trying to rip the buttons off of it. Try as he might, he was not being very successful so I went into the kitchen, got a pair of scissors and handed them to him. In not time flat, he'd cut all the buttons off the shirt so Margaret had to tie the bottom together to make it somewhat presentable in public. We started to leave the house when Mark declared that he needed to pee like a horse. After standing in Bob's driveway for about five minutes waiting for Mark, I noticed that Margaret hadn't come out either so I went back into the house looking for them.

I found them in the bathroom. Margaret had her back to the door and Mark was facing her. Neither of them are talking so I walked up to them and went to put my arms around her but discovered that her shirt was completely open again and Mark had one hand on each of her tits. Looking over her shoulder, I saw Margaret stroking Mark's hard cock which was poking out of his pants. I reached around her waist and opened the button at the top of her jeans. Reaching down for her zipper I discovered it was already open so I just pulled the waist band apart and down her hips a little. I also discovered when I slipped my hand down her jeans that she was not wearing any panties. I tapped Mark on the shoulder and he looked up at me. I nodded my head downwards and his eyes looked at my hand buried in Meg's jeans. While I had his attention I slipped my hand out of her jeans and using both hands pulled them as far apart as I could. Mark looked up at me again then took his hand off her tit and pushed it down the front of her jeans. I could tell when he found her pussy because she jumped a little and opened her legs wider. I reached up and took both her tits in my hands and started to squeeze them. Meanwhile Mark had one hand on her back and the other one down her jeans finger-fucking her. Margaret leaned back against my chest and put one arm back around my neck holding me tight while her other hand was slowly jacking Mark's cock. Margaret was starting to breath hard, and I'm not sure how far we would have gotten, when Jim stuck his head around the door and asks if we're coming to the strip joint or not. It took the three of us a minute or so to tidy Margaret up and re-tie her shirt then we all piled into two cars and took off for the strip joint.

If they serve alcohol, the strip joints in the County cannot have any nudity so the dancers all wear pasties over their nipples and do not remove their g-strings. The strip joint we went to has a platform in the middle where the dancers perform which is surrounded on all sides by the bar. Over in one corner there are a couple of pool tables and the opposite side of the bar has some open space with a couple of tables with chairs. When we first arrive George and I took a seat at the bar while the rest of the guys and Margaret went over and sat at one of the tables. We all got a beer and watched the dancer on the stage.

Each dancer performs to three songs and will usually step down from the platform and climb onto the bar to collect her tips. Some of the girls will hold their leg up over the bar to get dollar bills inserted into their garters and others will crawl on top of the bar going from one customer to the next collecting dollars along the way. Occasionally a one of the dancers will collect their tips by squeezing their tits together to snag the money being held out by the customer.

Sometime after the second dancer started, Margaret came over to the bar asking me for some dollar bills so she could tip the dancer. She stayed with us for a few minutes, gave the dancer a few bucks then went back to the table with Jim, Mark and Bob. While she was at the bar with us, the guys at the table rearranged their seating so when Meg went back, the only open seat had her facing away from the bar with her back to George and I. Finishing our first beers, George bought another round and I helped him carry the four drinks over to the table. As we passed out the drinks, Margaret told us that Bob, Mark, and Jim were giving her tips if she danced for them. She then pulled her shirt open and started shaking her torso so that her naked tits jiggled back and forth. After ten or fifteen seconds of this she closed and re-tied her shirt and, keeping her back towards the bar, went over to Mark for her tip. He took out a single dollar bill, folded it in half then waved it in front of her. At this, she opened the front of her jeans and Mark's dollar bill and hand disappeared into her jeans. You could easily see his hand rubbing up and down her pussy as he claimed he couldn't find her garter. Once he'd played inside her jeans for about half a minute he pulled his hand out. Margaret then recovered the dollar he'd left in her pants, pulled up her zip put it in her pocket and repeated the same routine with Jim, Bob, George and finally me. When I had my hand inside her jeans I managed to slip a couple of fingers into her pussy and she was so wet I'm sure the other guys must have been doing the same. When my turn to tip her was over, George and I went back to the bar and watched the next dancer.

A couple of songs later Margaret came back to the bar to tip the dancer. This time her shirt was untied and hanging open. When she reached out to give the dancer her tip, the shirt fell away from her body giving the dancer and those of us near her a nice view of her tits and very hard nipples. The rest of the time we spent in the place, almost an hour, Margaret split her time between the guys at the table and us at the bar. Her shirt was never tied up again and while George and I refrained from giving her any tips at the bar, Mark Bob and Jim took every chance they had to play with her nipples and stroke her pussy. Somewhere around Midnight with Margaret's shirt almost all the way open we all headed back to Bob's place with a couple of six-packs from the bar.

As we're getting out of the cars in Bob's driveway, George tells us he's got to get home. Before he leaves to walk the one block to his house Margaret tells him he has to kiss the "girls" good-night, opens her shirt and pulls his head down to kiss each of her tits. We all said our good-byes to him then everyone except me went into the house. I stayed outside to smoke a cigarette while I watched a very drunk George stagger up the road to his own house. Just as I'm finishing my smoke, Bob comes out with a beer for me, so we stay outside drinking and talking while he lit one up and I had another.

When we got back into the house the other three were in the living room. Walking through the doorway Bob was ahead of me and stopped dead in his tracks so I had to squeeze past him to see what was happening. When I got into the room I saw what had stopped Bob. Mark was standing in front of Meg with pants around his knees and his semi-hard cock hanging out. Meg's shirt was fully open and Mark hands were gently squeezing her tits. Jim was sitting on the chair just watching the both of them. As we stood there watching Mark said, "See I told you I had too much to drink to get a hard-on."

"But it was hard earlier," she replied as she grabbed Mark's cock with her right hand and slowly began to stroke it. I went over to the sofa and sat down to watch the action. When I sat down, Meg looked over toward me as she continued to stroke Mark's cock. I guess she was trying to gage my reaction to her stroking Mark's cock in front of Jim and Bob. I could see the passion in Meg's eyes. She was daring me to stop her from going further. I was tempted on the one hand to put a stop to Meg's lusty act. On the other hand I found myself hoping that she would stuff that cock in her mouth and let Mark face-fuck her. My indecision and the probable excitement in my eyes gave Meg her course of action. Without any fanfare, she dropped to her knees and guided the head of Mark's cock into her soft mouth.

Meg bobbed her head up and down a few times, never taking her sparkling eyes from mine. Her actions affected me more than I thought they would. I watched with rising excitement as my sweet, tender Meg wrapped her soft red lips around another man's cock. She was furiously trying to make it bigger. It was working too. Satisfied that I didn't disapprove of her actions, Meg looked away from me and focused her gaze on Mark's face. I'm not sure approval was what I was thinking about what Meg was doing, I was just so turned on I knew I wasn't going to stop her. Mark too was surprised to see this beautiful blond woman sucking his cock. Her blue eyes mesmerized him as she licked and sucked the head of his cock. Mark's cock grew bigger and Meg swallowed the whole head down her throat as her soft plump lips were stretched thin around the shaft of Mark's cock.

Meg managed to take his whole cock into her mouth. She pulled her mouth off his cock then she licked the shaft and Mark's balls, all the while gazing into his eyes. It was one hell of a show. Mark was now fully hard and so were the rest of us. I don't know what I expected to happen next. Meg had managed to prove to Mark that his cock could get hard even after all that he'd had to drink.

She sat back on her heels and admired the results of her efforts. Mark's cock stood proudly straight out in front of him. She could have stopped but she didn't seem to want to. She went back and slid her lips over his cock and started bobbing her head up and down. Mark just stood there closed his eyes and placed his hands on the back of her head while she cradled his balls in one hand and gently stroked his ass with the other.