Baseball Cougars Take The Lead Pt. 03

All characters are eighteen years or older.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: REVENGE FUCK

"Don?"

"Yeah, Mom."

"How did your uniform get cleaned? It had to have been washed after the game last night."

"Mrs. Osteen washed our uniforms."

"Okay. But you didn't take any extra clothes with you."

Mom was getting suspicious again. "Uh, I wore some of Chris' clothes while she did the laundry," I lied.

"All of you wore Chris' clothes?"

"Uh, sure, Mom. Gotta go." I knew it was an insufficient answer, and I ran out before she asked a follow up question.

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As the summer warmed up, so did Pete's mom's outfits. Other than Vito's mom, she was the most overdressed as far as wearing nice clothes to sit in the bleachers of a ball game. And Mrs. Clark's outfits were classier. Nice dresses, and skirt and blouse combos. She must've worked in a nice office, and I'm sure the men in her office appreciated her dressing that way. It was clear that the dads on the bleachers appreciated it. It was even clearer from the comments on the bench that the players liked the way she looked. And it was nearly as clear that Pete's dad did NOT appreciate his estranged wife posing on the bleachers.

And posing is what it appeared to me that she was doing. She wasn't talking to the other moms. The other dads were smart enough to admire from afar so as not to piss off their wives. And she was never friendly to me or the other boys, it seemed. She just seemed to like sitting in her sunglasses with her legs crossed in a sexy, if aloof, pose. And as the days got hotter and the other moms showed more skin, Mrs. Clark showed more thigh, more cleavage, and more panties. She had many colorful panties that could be seen from the bench. And as much as we looked back at her in admiration, Mr. Clark looked back with a scowl on his face. He always had a scowl, but it seemed worse when his estranged wife was on the bleachers with her skirt hiked up.

One Friday night after a game, Pete told us that the team was invited to spend the night at his house. We asked if his mom was okay with that, and he said, "Yeah, it was her suggestion."

When my mom dropped me off at Pete's house, I took along a sleeping bag and a change of clothes. I looked for Pete's mom, but she was out of sight. Within minutes, everybody else on the team was there. A pizza deliveryman arrived soon after. When the doorbell rang, I saw Mrs. Clark come down the stairs to open the door. I did a double take, when I saw that she was wearing a light blue nightgown.

I jumped up to see if I could help carry the pizzas, as well as to get a closer look at Mrs. Clark. The delivery guy's eye seemed riveted to Mrs. Clark's torso. As I got closer I could see why. The nightgown was very short, barely covering her crotch and her butt. It plunged down in front practically to her waist, baring most of her chest down to a little cleavage. And then the front of it was see-through. Her nipples were clearly visible through the thin lacy fabric. Her tits hung out the sides. Mrs. Clark leaned over to get money out of her purse, and a whole lot of her "Barely B" cup titties hung out in the open. I had to fight for position with the delivery guy for a good angle to see her tits.

I needn't have bothered fighting for a good view. I presumed that Pete's mom would modestly run back upstairs to finish changing or even disappear for the night. But instead, she marched right over to where we were all sitting in the family room, and then slowly walked over to the kitchen, which was attached to the family room in an open floor plan. She told us where to place the pizzas on the counter. Then she opened an upper cabinet and grabbed some paper plates and cups. As she reached up and leaned over, her blue thong panties were exposed. She was showing some ass cheeks, which were whiter than her legs. Eric nudged me, and I heard Mike silently moan.

Mrs. Clark found some paper towels from a lower cabinet, which allowed her to lean over and show her cleavage once more. It was when she stood up that her firm motherly breasts pressed against the translucent fabric. Her tits were firm and inviting.

Mrs. Clark didn't seem as aloof. I don't just mean her nearly undressed appearance. She was smiling, and seemed rather friendly. Her eyes were a bit misty. There was a booze bottle on the kitchen counter. Mrs. Clark fixed herself a mixed drink. I don't think it was her first one.

A few minutes later, I heard the door open. It was Pete's dad. This was awkward. I nudged Pete and pointed his dad out to him. "He's here to pick up my sister," he said. "It's his night to take us, but I got out of it because of this party. And he has to have my sister back home by nine o'clock because she has a softball game."

Amazingly, I didn't feel uncomfortable, as Mr. Clark walked into the family room and scowled at Mrs. Clark, and then at us. I was standing next to his estranged wife, who was half-dressed, and I didn't care. He was a jerk, we all thought he was a jerk, and there was nothing he could do about us being there.

"Have Ginny back by eight," said Mrs. Clark.

"Trudy, what are you doing?" was Mr. Clark's reply.

"We're having a party," said Mrs. Clark. She took one more swig of her drink, then set it down on the counter. "We're going to party all night." She put her left arm around my shoulder, and her right arm around Eric, who was standing on her right.

"Trudy, these are boys." Well, technically we were all eighteen, old enough to want to fuck our coach's wife.

"Just like Ginny's babysitter is a girl. You FUCKED a GIRL!" I could literally feel her tense up. So that's what this was about. Mrs. Clark was still pissed off at Mr. Clark for fucking the babysitter, and she was flaunting herself to us for his benefit.

Mr. Clark just stared at his wife, his jaw muscles moving, his nostrils flaring. He said nothing. Mrs. Clark quickly relaxed again. She moved her arms down to mine and Eric's waist. Her right nightgown strap slid off her shoulder, and her nipple popped out into the open. I just looked down at the little jewel, not caring what Coach Clark thought.

Ginny came down the stairs and exited for her dad's car. Mr. Clark turned to leave.

"I'll see you at eight, Ron," said Mrs. Clark. "We'll all still be here. She put her left hand onto Eric's chest and rubbed it as her husband slammed the door.

Mrs. Clark faded back into the kitchen for another drink. As I finished my pizza, I saw her making out with Mike. Pete approached Eric and me, and used a phrase I'd never heard before. "It looks like you guys might be getting a revenge fuck tonight."

As Pete walked away, Eric said to me, "Do you want to be fucked just so a chick can get revenge against another guy?"

I looked over at Mrs. Clark, who was rubbing Mike's cock over his pants. Her left nipple was visible from our vantage point, and Mike's arm around her waist was causing her nightgown to ride up, exposing her little blue thongs and most of her left ass cheek. "To fuck THAT, hell yeah!"

"Yeah, me too," agreed Eric.

Eric and I sat on the couch to eat. Mrs. Clark had broken off from Mike, and came over and sat on the coffee table in front of us. I couldn't tell by her eyes exactly how much she'd been drinking, but she was batting them to get our attention. "Let me know if there's anything you want." Both of her straps were falling off her shoulders, and her tits were popping out of her nightie again. Eric and I weren't the only ones to notice. Kyle and Brad and Kip all stood over Mrs. Clark, peering down at her exposed nipples. Mrs. Clark spread her legs wide, giving Eric and me a good view up her nightgown to her panty crotch. Damn, those were great legs, too.

Eric and I finished our pizza and stood around wherever Mrs. Clark was. We finally got her attention, and she came over and put her arms around us again. I put my right arm around her, and managed to catch the side of her right tit.

But it was Eric that she started making out with. Still, she groped both of our butts, and so I reached down under her nightie and felt her bare butt cheeks. What nice cheeks! Eric put his arms around her as he made out with her, and I saw his thumb catching her left nipple over her nightgown. Then she turned and made out with me, her tongue encircling mine. Her left strap had fallen again, probably with Eric's help, and her left tit was completely exposed. Eric toyed with the cone-shaped tit. Mrs. Clark grabbed both of our cocks through our shorts and rubbed them.

Apparently Mrs. Clark was more drunk than I'd realized. As she tried to lead us over to the couch, she tripped on the pile of sleeping bags that we'd stashed on the floor. She fell down into the pile onto her back, her feet up in the air, her panty crotch exposed to everybody. She laughed, and when Eric and I tried to pull her up, she pulled us down. So we laid down next to her and made out with her on the pile of sleeping bags. She made out with Eric as he felt both of her exposed tits. I rubbed her gorgeous bare thighs, and when she offered no resistance, I tickled her pussy mound over her thongs.

While Mrs. Clark and Eric made out, I slid down between Mrs. Clark's legs and kissed her thighs. She opened them further, so I reached under her nightie and slid down her thongs. She lifted her butt as I pulled them off her. Mrs. Clark's pussy was completely shaved. I licked the mound and tickled her thighs before licking her labia. Eric had one of her tits in his mouth as I slid my tongue into her pussy slit and ate her furiously. "MMMMmmmMMM!" I don't know if she was enjoying Eric, or me, but probably both. Mrs. Clark smelled fresh, but her juices were flowing. I looked up, and saw that she had Eric's cock out of his pants, and she was stroking it.

Suddenly Mrs. Clark sat up. She pushed me down and turned me over so I was on my back on the sleeping bags. She knelt over me, and began lowering her pussy onto my head. As she sat on my face, I looked up and saw that her nightgown was bunched nearly down to her waist, her firm jutting titties exposed to the whole room.

She got her pussy settled on my face, and wrapped her smooth thighs around my head. I resumed licking her pussy. Looking up, I saw that Eric was standing over me, thrusting his red cock into Mrs. Clark's mouth. We each took a tit in our hands.

Mrs. Clark started to gyrate her hips on my head. Her spasmodic wiggles made it harder to eat her, but I knew from my experience with the other moms what would drive her wild. I licked further up, and found her clit. I tongued it fast and furious. Mrs. Clark clamped her thighs around my head like a vice and gyrated through a wild orgasm.

Just as she was subsiding, I looked up to see Eric's cum dripping out of her mouth. The squirt in her mouth must have caught her by surprise, because she reared back. Eric's cock popped out of her mouth, and his next shot caught her squarely in the eye and nose. The next spurt hit her chin, the next her chest.

Eric pulled back and Mrs. Clark fell off my face. But I hadn't cum yet. Mrs. Clark rolled over onto her chest, over a rolled up sleeping bag. I got behind her, aimed my cock at her pussy, and entered her doggie style. I fucked the hot wife's pussy hard, slapping loudly into her rippling ass flesh. "Uhh! Uhh!" I heard her groan.

I'm not sure what got into me, but as I looked down at my despised coach's snooty wife's ass, I pulled my cock out of her slippery pussy. I moved it up a few inches, and with only Mrs. Clark's pussy juices as lubrication, I started to push my cock head into her puckered asshole. I guess that I just figured that since I didn't like her anyhow, and she'd probably act snooty to me when she was done with me tomorrow, I didn't have anything to lose by butt fucking her pretty ass.

"Ahh! AHHHHH!" The hot mom moaned. That wasn't exactly no. With my friends and Mrs. Clark's son watching me, I wanted to be aggressive and manly, so I shoved hard, and worked my cock into her asshole. I don't know if Mrs. Clark had ever taken a cock up her asshole before, but after a few minutes of apparent shock, she started to loosen up her asshole, and stick her butt up for me.

I started thrusting faster. This was tighter than any female hole I'd been in before. "HHHHOOOOOO! HUNNNNNG!" Mrs. Clark didn't sound so snooty or classy anymore. She sounded like a squealing grunting farm animal. "CHUUCKK! HHHRRRRRGGGGGH!"

I came deep into her ass. But after a couple of spurts, I pulled out and let the rest of my jizm squirt over her asshole and back.

I rolled off Mrs. Clark. She rolled over onto her back, with a shocked expression on her face, like she didn't know what had just happened. But before she could react further, Brad, Kip, and Shawn pounced on her, and were stuffing cocks in her hands, mouth, and pussy.

After that, I saw Pete manhandling his mom. He'd always seemed a bit timid around his arrogant mom, but tonight he pounded his cock into her hard and fast, and Mrs. Clark simply took it.

I don't know if Mrs. Clark got more than she bargained for this night, or if this was her plan. But she was obedient and fucked and sucked all of us, multiple times, all night. Somewhere around dawn, I fell asleep on one of the sleeping bags.

I woke up when I heard the front door open. Coach Clark pushed Pete's sister up the stairs before she could see anything downstairs. Then, with one eye open, I watched him enter the downstairs area. I looked over, and Mrs. Clark was passed out two feet away from me. The ravaged wife was completely naked. Her hair was a fright, her makeup running and smeared, and she was covered from head to toe with sticky jizm. Bill was asleep next to her, his black hand on her white ass. Vito was sleeping next to Mrs. Clark on the other side, his limp cock lying inches from the blonde wife.

Mrs. Clark woke up squinting, and when she saw Mr. Clark in the room, she managed to get up on one elbow. "Hi, Ron." She looked around at her own son and a dozen other naked teen boys sleeping all around her. "Nope, they're not boys. They're men."

Mr. Clark silently turned and left, slamming the front door on his way out.

CHAPTER TWELVE: BIG BLACK MAMA

I was up early for practice, and something strange happened. I walked by the bathroom, and Mom was in there with the door open. She was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. She was only wearing her bra and panties.

Mom never lets me see her in her underwear. I stopped and stared for a moment, taking in her big beige bra and tight beige cotton panties. She turned to look at me, and I broke out of my trance and walked on down the hall, when I heard her call out my name. "Don?" Was I in trouble for staring at her?

"What?"

"Come here, please."

I walked back to the bathroom, and looked in again. Mom turned to face me. I couldn't help staring at her body again. I'd seen her in one-piece bathing suits, but never underwear. She had a little smile on her face. "Um, what time is practice today?"

"It's at ten."

"How late does it go?"

"The usual."

Mom kept asking me questions, smiling at me as I stared at her in her underwear. I'd swear that there was sexual tension between us. I was having trouble keeping my voice calm.

"Are you embarrassed seeing me in my underwear?"

"No," I lied. Actually I was, but it was also hot. I got a hardon, and I wondered if she could see it.

"Do I look too old, or do you still think your friends would think I was hot if they saw me like this?"

"No, they'd still think you were hot."

"Are you just saying that, or do I look hot?"

"You look hot," I blurted.

I heard Dad coming in the front door. Mom heard him, too. "Thanks, Don," she smiled, and then closed the bathroom door. Whew!

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Bill was the only black kid on the team. And as such, his mom was the only black mom on the team. Mrs. Bradley was an attractive woman with a nice figure. Her straight black hair went down to her shoulders. Her legs looked good, as much as I'd seen them, which was only from her knees down. Her tits looked sizable.

She didn't dress as scantily as most of the moms. But she did dress nice. I don't know what she did for a living, but she must have worked in a nice office or something, because on weeknights she always came to the games in nice dresses or slacks, with pearl necklaces and stuff. A classy woman, it seemed, who was friendly and seemed to get along with the other moms. Her only problem was that in warm weather she didn't dress as scantily as most of the other moms, so I was less familiar with her body.

One day when practice ended earlier than expected, since Bill's house was close to the field, Bill and Mike and Shawn and me stopped by Bill's house. We were hoping to get a ride home from Bill's mom, since Bill said his dad was working late. As we approached the house, there was a car in the driveway. "I don't know whose car this is," said Bill.

Bill let us in the front door. The living room was dark, but there was a light down the hall. Bill had a concerned look on his face, so nobody said a word. Something was making noise down the hall. Something AND someone. I detected music, but something else. Bill crept down the hall and peeked through the cracked door into his parent's lighted bedroom. From down the hall we watched him frozen at the door for a minute. Then he crept back down to where we were waiting.

"My mom's fucking some guy in her room. But he ain't my dad."

Bill crept back down the hall, this time waving us down with him. I peeked in first. Mrs. Bradley was straddling some big black dude on her bed. Her bottom half was under the sheets, but her top half was nude. I could just barely see the sides of her black tits hanging down, but little else. There was some R&B music playing from some stereo or radio. The other sounds emanating from the room were the squeaking of the bed, and Mrs. Bradley's moans. The noise was loud enough that Mrs. Bradley and her black lover couldn't hear us out in the hall.

Mike pushed me aside and gawked in, then Shawn. Each stared through the crack for a minute, and then turned away with a big wide grin. Mike pulled out his cell phone. It had a camera on it. He took some pictures of the action through the cracked door.

The four of us then crept back to the living room. Bill shook his head and grinned. "Wow, that's fucked up," he said.

We then left through the front door, and decided to walk down to Shawn's house. On the way down the driveway, Shawn took a couple of pictures of the stranger's car in Bill's driveway.

Several days later, we'd made arrangements for the team to spend the afternoon at Bill's house. His dad once again was working the overnight shift, but his mom was there to chaperone. Once the entire team arrived and was mingling in the living room, Shawn, Bill, and Mike called Mrs. Bradley into the hallway just beyond the kitchen. I was chicken, and stayed with the rest of my teammates in the kitchen, which was an open floor plan next to the living room, around the corner from the hallway.

The plan was simple. Shawn showed Mrs. Bradley the photos on his cell phone. I heard her gasp from around the corner. There was some dialog, and fortunately Mrs. Bradley's tone was not one of anger. More of fear. That's what we were hoping for. I couldn't hear every word. But I heard her ask, "What are you gonna do? What do you want?"

Mike responded. "We want what this dude got."

There was a gasp from Bill's mom, then long pause. "C'mon. No. You can't be serious."

"Yep, they're serious, mom," said Bill.

After some more whispering and apparently some negotiations, Bill entered the living room, holding his mom's arm. Mrs. Bradley looked around at all of us. Everyone was staring at her. We all knew the plan.