It was late November and the metal bleachers at Forester Football field were ice cold. How anyone could sit for hours on them, was beyond me.
I went to watch my high school son’s final football game of the season. It was a chilly Friday night and the crowd was sparse and I mean, very sparse. The team was winless for the season, but that didn’t dampen the spirit of the band or the drill team which continued to support their classmates on the field. I sat behind the drill team section, on the cold metal bleacher seats that I hated, wondering why I had put myself through such misery, but reminding myself how important it was to support the kids.
During the third quarter of the game, the drill team and the band took a break and they were free to roam the stadium to catch up with classmates and family. They had to be back in their seats for the start of the fourth quarter.
Junior’s girlfriend was an affable and extremely outgoing young lady by the name of Sammi. I liked Sammi and not just because Junior liked her, but because she seemed to gravitate in my direction for accompaniment and chit chats. Over a period of time, we seemed to bond in a very unusual way. I found myself very attracted to her, even though she was only seventeen. I had to be incredibly careful to not cross the unmistakable line of decency, since she was still seventeen.
When the drill team Captain told the drill team they could break, Sammi made a beeline to where I was seated behind the team.
“Oh My Gosh!” Sammi beamed as she approached where I was seated. “I didn’t think we were going to ever get our break.”
Sammi’s drill team outfit clung tightly to her tight little athletic body, the skirt riding high on her chiseled thighs, and offering a great view of her tanned and well-toned athletic legs. She sported thigh-high white boots and a beguiling smile.
“You didn’t tell me happy birthday,” Sammi exclaimed as she stood in front of me, a step down from where I was seated.
“Did I miss your birthday?” I asked.
“Yes!” Sammi replied, “NOW, I am legal.”
“Well happy birthday,” I replied, patting the metal bleacher seat beside me.
“I can’t sit down,” Sammi replied, “I’ll freeze my ass off.”
I nodded my head in agreement.
“I’d offer you my lap, but folks might not think that very appropriate,” I jokingly replied.
“Hang on,” Sammi extolled, “I have a blanket.”
I watched as she bounded down the bleachers and retrieved a blanket from where she had been sitting. As she stepped back up in front of me, she tossed the blanket on the metal bleacher seat and then plopped down on it, crossing her sexy legs in the process.
“It’s so freaking cold,” Sammi decried, rubbing her hands together to try and create some warmth.
“Why aren’t you wearing your jacket?” I asked.
“They won’t let us,” Sammi replied. “It’s stupid.”
I leaned over and whispered,
“I can warm you up.”
Sammi turned bright red and replied, “Don’t tempt me. You know that I am legal now.”
“I know,” I replied removing my hand from her thigh. “I’m only teasing you.”
Sammi placed her hand on to my leg and squeezed as she leaned in close to where I was seated.
“Give me the blanket,” I instructed.
Sammi stood up and handed me the blanket. I wrapped it wound my shoulders and then opened it up, nodding my head towards my lap.
“Sit down,” I instructed.
Sammi settled on to my lap and I wrapped the blanket around the two of us, proving us some privacy.
“Thank you,” Sammi whispered as she leaned against me.
Whiteside High scored a touchdown and Sammi leaped to her feet, pumping her fists in the air.
“Yessssss!” she yelled, “We scored!”
She turned and planted a kiss on my cheek, tossing her arms around my neck in the process. Her youthful exuberance had overtaken any common sense.
“Oh yeah!” she exclaimed. “Six points!”
Normally, the band would play the school fight song after such a momentous score, but the stadium remained eerily silent as the extra point kicker lined up to kick the extra point. Sammi stood stoic in front of me, between my parted legs, her hands clasped in front of herself in anticipation of another point being added to the score. Unfortunately, the kicker missed.
Sammi settled back onto my lap and I re-wrapped the blanket around us.
“Well,” she said, as she shifted on my lap, “you can’t win them all.”
I agreed.
“The important thing,” I noted, “is that you show up to play and have fun.”
Sammi placed her hands on to my knees and wiggled her butt back and forth. She looked back at me for my reaction, and asked if I was having fun.
“If you don’t stop wiggling your silly ass in my lap,” I whispered, “I will have to reseat you.”
Sammi laughed.
“Am I causing you issues?”
“Yes,” I replied, “so behave yourself.”
“I can’t,” Sammi replied as she gently rocked her hips back and forth.
“Stop it!” I said more firmly.
“Oh, come on,” Sammi replied, “You know you like it.”
“Yes,” I replied, “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”
Sammi laughed. She shifted her weight on my lap.
“Stop that,” I reiterated.
“I’m just having a little fun,” Sammi replied, “Lighten up.”
She leaned back and asked me if I would give her a ride, after the game to the gym to meet up with Junior. I suggested she ride with some of the other drill team members, but she quickly dismissed the suggestion.
“I’ll pay you,” Sammi proffered. “I don’t want to ride with some of those bitches.”
“You don’t need to pay me,” I replied. I acquiesced and told her that I would give her a ride after the game was over. She giddily rocked her hips back and forth on my lap, clapping her hands, exclaiming,
“Great! I’ll see you in the parking lot.”
And just like that, I was left sitting alone on the cold metal bleachers, with a raging hard-on. I watched as she bounded back down the bleachers, her blanket in hand. She reclaimed her assigned seat, as her drill team members filed back into the bleachers, turning briefly to look back at me and give me a thumbs up and a wink.
With only two minutes to go in the dame and Whiteside losing, I made a quick walk to the parking lot to warm up the pickup truck. I watched as the kids and a few parents, file out of the stadium. No one lingered since there was a stiff north wind blowing at that point.
Sammi made a lonely trek across the parking lot, carrying her backpack. After settling into the passenger seat beside me, she placed her hands in front of the vents to warm them. Her nose and her cheeks were rosy red from the cold. She rubbed her hands together to create some warmth.
I patted the open space between us, since I had a bench seat in the truck. She silently slid across the seat. I placed my hand on to her bare leg, just above the ending point of her thigh-high drill team boot.
“It’s freaking c-c-c-cold,” Sammi stuttered. “Too-too-too fr-fr-freaking c-c-c-c-cold!”
I squeezed and gently patted her inner thigh with my hand and told her to give it a moment, that she would warm up. Sammi placed her left hand on my inner thigh and squeezed.
“Warm me up,” she extolled.
“Be careful,” I replied. “This could get complicated.”
“I don’t care,” Sammi replied, inching her fingers closer to my crotch. “I know what I am doing.”
She moved her hand to cover mine, which was resting on the inner thigh of her left leg.
“I like your touch,” Sammi whispered.
“I like yours as well,” I replied.
She leaned in against me, pushing my hand up closer to the short hem of her drill team outfit, and closer to her private area.
“Your hand is warm,” Sammi whispered.
I took in a deep breath and exhaled.
“This is dangerous,” I said.
“That’s OK,” Sammi responded. “What is life without a little danger?”
“But it’s wrong,” I replied, trying to argue my way out of the inevitable.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Sammi replied, “with two people meeting each other’s needs.”
I wanted to argue back, but I could not. I had a raging hard-on. Sammi’s hand found its way onto my crotch and she silently squeezed my tool through the fabric of my jeans.
“No,” I argued.
“But I want to,” Sammi pleaded as she gripped my tool. She was making it hard to say “no” a second time.
“Fine,” I replied.
Sammi placed her drill boots up on the dashboard and arched her buttocks off the bench seat. She then proceeded to strip out of her underwear, slipping her panties past her knees and the ends of her boots. She nonchalantly tossed her panties onto the dashboard and then she silently turned sideways in the seat in my direction. She slipped a hand into the opening in my button-down shirt.
“You are unbelievable,” I whispered, taking in another deep breath, and then forcefully exhaling as she worked her hand on to my chest. I slipped my arm around her and grabbed a hand full of a sweet little bare ass. She took in a deep breath and exhaled.
She fumbled with my belt, so I unfastened it to allow her to gain entry to what she was craving. I arched my back and pushed my trouser and my boxer shorts downwards, allowing my tool to come into full view. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft and studied it, gently massaging it. She fingered the tip end and the g-spot where my foreskin was folded back. Pre-cum leaked from the tip end of my tool. Sammi deftly used her fingers to spread it around the bulbous end of my tool.
“This is so cool,” Sammi whispered. The musty smell of sex permeated the cab of the pickup. Sammi leaned down and gently kissed the tip end of my penis, then she used her wicked tongue to encircle it, before sliding my tool into her mouth.
Oh, Lord.
She bobbed up and down on my tool with a wildness, unlike anything I had ever experienced. She cupped my testicles in her small hands and gently massaged them.
She looked up at me, my cock buried deep in her mouth. She slipped off my tool and asked if I wanted to “fuck”. I was not used to hearing the f-word used so casually.
“I don’t have a condom,” I told her.
“I’m on the pill,” Sammi replied.
It had been years since I had experienced sex in a vehicle. It’s not the optimum place for sex. But Sammi was insistent. I had her scoot across the bench to the passenger side and I slid out from behind the steering wheel. I kicked off my boots and slipped out of my jeans and my boxer shorts, as Sammi stripped out of her drill team uniform and her white lace bra. She was now totally naked, save her thigh-high drill team boots.
Oh my God! She had a teenage body to die for!
Sammi slipped on top of my lap, straddling my hips, facing me, my eight and half inch steel rod arching upwards between us. I scooted downward in the bench seat, while hoisting Sammi upwards by her hips. I worked the tip end of my tool along the moistened creases of her vagina, as she held on to my shoulders, her luscious and beautiful boobs, only inches from my face. I slipped my tool into her tight little pussy. She eased herself down on to my lap, my tool slipping inside of her pussy. Her eyes widened as our pubic bones met. She started working her hips in a slow circular motion. I could feel the walls of her vagina tightening against my tool and then loosening up as she worked her hips back and forth.
Sammi raised her ass upwards and then pushed back down on my lap, sliding up and down on my tool, over and over. She repeated this over and over as the sexual ecstasy continued to build between us.
“You’re going to make me cum,” I told her.
“Good!” she replied.
Oh, Lord!
Her head fell on to my shoulder and she dug her manicured and pink painted fingertips into my shoulders, shaking and trembling, gasping for breath.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Oh yesssss,” Sammi declared, her head buried on to my shoulder.
She leaned back, her hands on my knees. Her eyes were closed, and she lowered her head.
“Jesus!” she declared. “You are freaking awesome!”
I grabbed her boobs and dug in my fingers. She grabbed my hands and held them in place, shaking and trembling.
“Are you sure you are OK?” I asked.
“No dammit!” she shot back. “Fucking cum!”
“I will,” I told her. “It takes time.”
The windows in the truck were now well fogged up. I could see car lights passing by us in the lamp-lit parking lot. I’m pretty sure folks knew what was going on, even though they could not see into the truck cab.
Sammi resumed bouncing up and down on my lap, vigorously. I could not hold back. I shot my load deep inside of her. As I did, she reburied her head once again into the nape of my neck, holding on to my shoulders, shaking and trembling. She went limp and collapsed against me, her head buried into my shoulder.
“That was awesome,” Sammi whispered as I stared up at the ceiling of the crew cab.
She looked at me and I looked back at her, our eyes locking on to each other. I pulled her in for a light kiss, but our lips parted, and the kiss became deeply passionate and very prolonged. So, we sat there, kissing, like two crazy, passion-starved individuals, until nature finally took its course and forced us to disengage.
I cracked open the driver’s side window for a bit of fresh air. There was no one else in the parking lot.
A Whiteside Police officer drove up as we were getting redressed and asked if everything was OK. I assured him that everything was OK, that we were simply enjoying some alone time. He told us he needed to lock up the lot, so I started up the truck and we drove out of the lot, thankful that he didn’t ask either of us for any identification and that he was not more probative.
Sammi asked me to take her home, rather than to the school to meet up with Junior. I asked her if she was sure and she replied,
“Yeah, I can catch up with him tomorrow at school and I can call him once I get home.”
I felt kind of bad because Junior really liked Sammi.
“Don’t feel bad,” Sammi replied, “I wanted and needed this.”
But I felt bad anyway. The drive to Sammi’s house was uncomfortably quiet.
“Look,” Sammi replied as I pulled up in front of her house,” Sammi is a great boyfriend, but that’s about it. He is not a lover like you.”
I still felt bad. Sammi grabbed my hand and reassured me.
“If I need someone to be goofy around, I have got Junior. If I need someone to see a movie with, I have Junior. But if I need a good fuck, I have you.”
I was still not used to the f-word being used so casually. I checked it up to a generational difference and watched as Sammi made her way up the sidewalk and disappeared into her house. My cell phone blinked.
“I’m home,” read the text from Junior. I texted him back, telling him the team had played a good game.
He texted back, “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, what’s important is that you show up and have fun.”
I whole-heartedly agreed.
