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All characters are eighteen years or older.
CHAPTER SIX: COACH MOM
“What was going on before the game today?”
“I saw Kip’s mom down by the fence before the game.” Mom had come to the game later. I was hoping she’d arrived after we played with Mrs. Diel, but I guess she got there during the middle of things. I hope she didn’t see too much.
“It looked like there was a big commotion around her by the fence. Did somebody get hurt? What was she doing there?”
“She was smoking, and came over to talk to Kip.”
“She didn’t offer you boys a smoke, did she?”
“No, Mom, she didn’t offer us a smoke.” I hope I sounded sincere. Mom dropped it, so hopefully she was satisfied with my answers. Phew.
Kip wasn’t a real friendly guy, and Vito just wasn’t one of the guys we hung out with or sat next to on the bench, so there was minimal follow-up discussion about much of the team fucking their moms, or their own participation in their moms’ gangbangs.
At the next game, Pete’s mom showed up in the bleachers in a tight fashionable summer dress that scooped way down in front, showing some pushed-up cleavage, more cleavage than I thought the slender blonde possessed. Pet’s mom was a bona-fide stuck up bitch, the kind of mom that tended to treat us like vermin when we were around, if she even acknowledged our presence. She seemed the least likely mom to wear something sexy to a ballgame. But then again she’d rarely attended her son’s ballgames before.
And that’s when a taboo was broken. Up to that point, as much as Pete and Eric and I talked about some of the hot moms in the stands, there was never any mention of any of our own moms. Eric’s mom was a redhead with a little weight on her and very average looks, but I enjoyed staring at her big tits and wondered what the redhead’s pussy hair looked like. Still, I wasn’t about to mention Eric or Pete’s moms, and they never mentioned mine.
But upon seeing Pete’s mom, Eric asked, “Pete, what’s up with your mom dressed that way?”
Pete didn’t seem offended. “I think she’s trying to piss off my dad. They’re going through a divorce. She caught him fucking my sister’s babysitter.”
Pete’s dad was Coach Clark, one of our team’s assistant coaches. I thought he was a jerk. He was hired on after the draft as an extra coach, because Pete was not one of our best players. Actually, he was one of the worst. I think he played ball just because his dad made him. Coach Clark was a typical big loud jock, never teaching but always yelling. I hated the way he berated Pete for making mistakes.
So today Mrs. Clark was sitting up in the stands looking standout sexy and overdressed, while Coach Clark stewed on the bench or on the field.
This discussion of Pete’s mom opened up a can of worms about each other’s moms. Eric asked, “Ever seen your mom naked, Pete?”
Pete replied. “Yeah. But only since Dad moved out. She used to be real modest, but now she’s always parading around the house in her underwear or sexy lingerie, and even leaving the bedroom door open when she changes.”
“How about you, Mike?” asked Eric. Ever seen your mom naked?”
“No,” replied Mike. “She keeps her door locked tight when she changes.” I kept my mouth shut about seeing Mike’s mom naked when she left the bedroom door open, right before she fucked me. “How about you, Eric?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen her naked. I’ll come home and be real quiet so she doesn’t know I’m there, and then she’ll come out of her bedroom or the shower completely naked.”
“What does she look like naked?” Asked Mike.
“Her tits are big and heavy and have light colored nipples,” replied Eric about his redheaded mom. “And her bush is basically the same red color as the hair on her head. Pretty wild looking.”
“Wow, a firebush!” Said Mike. I’d never heard that term before, and it made me chuckle.
“How about you, Dan?” asked Pete.
“No,” I replied. “I’ve never seen her naked. Never tried.”
“Why the fuck not?” Asked Eric. “She’s the hottest mom on the team.”
I was taken aback by that comment. Not because I was offended, but I just thought of my mom as a mom. Before Kip and Vito took part in their respective moms’ jizfest, I couldn’t imagine any son having sexual thoughts of his own mother.
I looked back at the bleachers, and there was Mom. She was very tall, five foot ten inches. And pretty enough for her age. I guess I always knew she was pretty. She did have long legs, which were currently on display in her shorts. And yeah, I guess she did have big tits. Wow, I guess she had REALLY big tits, now that I look at her in her tight red tank top. I felt my cock stirring in my cup, thinking about my mom as a sex symbol, and thinking about my teen teammates thinking about her sexually, the way I thought about their moms.
As if on queue, Mom leaned over to retrieve something from her purse, allowing bursa escort bayan her tank top to gap open, and a whole lot of cleavage to be displayed to my teammates. “Ummmmm!” several groaned.
Mike asked to no one in particular, “Anybody here fucked their mom?”
A month ago I would have laughed at such an absurd question. But witnessing Kip and Vito fondling their moms’ tits, it didn’t seem like such a wild inquiry.
Shawn replied, “I’ve SEEN my mom fucking. I watched her fuck a boyfriend a couple of years ago.”
“Was that kind of sick?” Asked Mike.
“She’s been divorced from my dad for years, so she had this one boyfriend. Nothing weird about it. It was pretty hot, watching them banging away. She was on top, and her ass was grinding and her tits were hanging down.”
We didn’t always have to look behind us in the stands for some female action. Sometimes we could just look forward. Shawn’s mom, Mrs. Truffeau, was one of our coaches. Not that she knew much about baseball. But here’s the way it worked with our league: the dads were all nuts about winning games, more than us players were, so picking the best players was important. And before the season, when the league held a draft, the managers got to reserve their kid, and their coach’s kids. So how good an assistant coach’s kid played was more important than how well the dad could coach. And since Shawn was a great player, and his mom was divorced and Shawn’s dad wasn’t around, Coach Miles picked Mrs. Truffeau as an assistant coach so he could automatically get Shawn on his team.
So at practices and at games, Mrs. Truffeau was the only female on the baseball field. She wasn’t the prettiest of moms, or one of the classiest or ladylike. Her face was just average, and her shoulder-length brown hair was sort of unkempt and unstyled. And her body was sorta skinny. But she did have nice sized tits on such a skinny frame. And her ass and legs weren’t bad, either, when she was the only female to look at. She couldn’t coach us on much, but I liked watching her spread her legs and stick her ass out while she hit fungos to us.
She started out the year as just a mom, but the more time she spent around us, she loosened up and tolerated our juvenile behavior and jokes. Sometimes I think she tried to fit in and act like a little more like a regular person and less like a mom. And sometimes I think perhaps she enjoyed our dirty teen innuendos.
And when the weather warmed up, she wasn’t afraid to dress skimpy in front of us; or the people in the stands. At practices it started with tight tank tops and spandex shorts over her skinny butt. Soon she was wearing that to games. And once she wore a one-piece bathing suit with cutoffs at a game, coaching first base like that. I don’t know what the parents or Coach Miles thought, but we took notice on the bench.
It seemed to start when she caught me staring at her tits once, and just smiled at me. Then she started trading dirty innuendos, when someone would make some juvenile dirty comment. Like when Kip held two baseballs in his hand and said something about having “a pair of big balls”. Mrs. Truffeau retorted, “Kip, you only wish your balls were that big.” And then some baseball bat jokes. Guys standing with their baseball bats between their legs, and someone would say something dirty. Mrs. Truffeau said, “I’ve had bigger.”
And then she started rubbing up against us. It began as little pats of our shoulders or backs when we made a good play. Some of the visiting fields had actual dugouts, or at least benches obscured by tarps and things. I used to sit next to Mrs. Truffeau on the bench as she kept score, and read the score sheet. She’d sit close to me as she explained how she kept score, and rub her bare leg against mine, and I’d press back. Once Mrs. Truffeau stood behind me on the bench and put her hand on my shoulders. She slowly caressed my shoulders and back, and then leaned forward until I could feel her upper thigh pressing against my upper arm. I pressed back, and then she pressed her pussy mound into my shoulder. All of this was out of the eyeshot and earshot of the other coaches and adults.
It got to the point that when she was coaching first base and I’d get on base, she’d come over and whisper some instructions to me, and press her tit into my shoulder. It was hard to concentrate on the game when she did that.
Then today, she showed up to the game in her black spandex shorts and tight white tank top, only this time she wasn’t wearing a bra! Kip and Eric and Pete and I all noticed right away. The whole game she’s out coaching the bases like that, and coming back to the bench and parading in front of us, as her sizable tits jiggled on her slender frame under her top, her nipples poking through.
Mrs. Truffeau’s son Shawn heard the comments from us boys, and finally said out loud, “Geez, Mom, why don’t you just flash your boobs?”
Everybody chuckled, and Mrs. Truffeau looked down at her nilüfer escort chest. “They’re just boobs. What, you boys don’t like boobs?”
“Show us your boobs and we’ll tell you if we like them,” quipped Kip.
“You boys should be paying attention to the game, not boobs. We’re down four runs. We need to win this game.”
“Flash us once and we’ll get motivated,” said Pete.
“You win this game, and maybe I will, Pete,” said Mrs. Truffeau.
I didn’t think she meant it, but that WAS motivation, and we came from behind and beat our rivals in an important game. We were stoked about it, but the adults and coaches were even more ecstatic. Mrs. Truffeau invited all of us players over to her house for a sleepover celebration. We all went home and changed, and got dropped off at Shawn and Mrs. Truffeau’s house.
By the time I got there, Mrs. Truffeau was three sheets to the wind. She’d clearly been celebrating by having a few drinks, and met me at the door with a beer in her hand. She was wearing the same spandex shorts and braless white tank top she wore at the game. She gave me a hug and mumbled something about “a great game!”
Everybody else on the team was already in the family room next to the kitchen, and Mrs. Truffeau joined us there. She walked among us, holding a beer bottle in her left hand, telling each of us individually, “Good game.” She was patting us on the butt with her right hand. I saw Eric return the pat by patting Mrs. Truffeau on the butt, and she just smiled at him. That emboldened me, so when she walked by me and patted my butt, (actually, more of a squeeze), I grabbed a handful of her ass. The spandex gave way as I squeezed, and I cupped her cheek for a moment. Mrs. Truffeau moved on, but looked back and gave me a dirty smirk. My heart was thumping by my boldness, the feel of her butt, and her dirty smirk.
Shawn had some music playing, and Mrs. Truffeau started dancing with herself. Of course all of us teen boys watched her braless tits shake.
“Shake ’em”, yelled Kip. That only encouraged her more, and she shook her tits and thrust her hips at us.
“Hey, weren’t you going to show your boobs if we won the game?” asked Pete.
“I said MAYBE,” said Mrs. Truffeau.
“Oh, come on, Mom, just show ’em. They’re practically hanging out anyways,” said Shawn. They were hanging out the top and spilling out through the armholes at the sides.
The rest of us hollered out words of encouragement. Mrs. Truffeau put down her beer bottle, smiling, like she was pondering. Then she leaned over, bending at the waist, grabbed the top of her tank top in front with both hands, and pulled it open, revealing her hanging tits. I could see her white puppies dangling down, capped with large brown areolas. We all cheered, but the show was a quick one, and she stood up with a big dirty smile on her face.
“More!” We bellowed. Mrs. Truffeau smirked at us before taking a swig from her beer bottle. “More! Take it off!”
“Your turn,” she said. “You take your shirts off.”
I don’t know if she was bluffing or not, but Eric and I peeled off our shirts, and soon the entire team was standing and sitting around shirtless. Mrs. Truffeau put her beer bottle down, crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her top, and started to lift up. Soon she was peeling her shirt up over her tits and trough her hair.
All of us boys hollered and whistled as Shawn’s mom stood and posed topless for us. Her tits did look pretty big on her slender frame. They were very pale, but her areolas were pretty darned large and quite dark. Her tits sloped down just a bit, but were round. I watched as her nipples puckered and stuck out.
Mrs. T picked up her beer bottle and took a swig, taking in the attention and hoots and whistles. She looked down at her naked tits, and then swung her shoulders from side to side, which caused her tits to shake. After getting more hollers and whistles, she shook her chest up and down to make her tits bobble.
Mrs. T leaned back against her fireplace mantle. She put her beer on the mantle, and rested her arms on it. There was a moment there when nobody knew what to do. Mrs. T asked, “Don’t any of you want to feel them?” With that, Kip and Shawn approached her and each grabbed a tit. Mrs. T gave her own son a dirty smile as he felt her tit. The rest of us approached, and soon there were numerous hands reaching out for tits. Other hands found her spandex shorts and felt her ass. Mrs. T smiled as she got jostled around. She managed to grab a few guys’ cocks and asses, and tugged down on a few guys’ pants until she got some bare stiff cocks in her hands.
I was able lean in and get my right hand on her right tit briefly, crudely squeezing it and tugging at her hard nipple. But the competition was harsh, and I got knocked off balance. I ended up on my knees right in front of Mrs. T. I was inches away from her pussy mound, and so I reached in and rubbed the hump over her tight türbanlı escort pants. After a bit, I wanted naked flesh, and so I tried to reach in the top of her shorts, but they were too tight. Mrs. T looked down at me stretching her shorts, smiling at me. I reached up and started to pull her pants down. Somebody who was feeling her ass helped, and several hands yanked her pants down along with her white panties. I pulled them down to her ankles, and Mrs. T stepped out of the garments.
I was now staring directly at a naked pussy, covered with brown hair. It was sexy. I reached in and rubbed the matted fur for a moment, and then slid my middle finger in. Mrs. T was very wet. I finger fucked her for a bit as Mrs. T. grabbed several guy’s heads and pulled them towards her to make out with them. She spread her legs a little further apart, giving me room to work.
Since eating Vito’s mom, I had dreamed of licking another pussy. I burrowed my head into her crotch, felt her hair tickling my nose, and found her wet slit with my tongue. Mrs. T’s pussy was hot and musky smelling. I loved the scent, and licked deep and rapidly. Mrs. T spread wider and thrust her pussy harder into my face.
“OK, swing your bats. Show me your lumber,” hollered Mrs. Truffeau.
“Huh?” Said Brian.
“Take off your pants!”
All of us stripped out of the rest of our clothes. Mrs. T broke away from the pack, and as I stood up she grabbed my hand. “Don gets to go first because he ate my pussy so well.” She reached down and grabbed my hard cock, and stroked it rapidly. As she did, she grabbed my head and pressed her lips against mine, sliding her tongue into my mouth. Apparently she didn’t have an issue with kissing the mouth that just licked her pussy. Then she pulled me over to a coffee table, and said, “Lay down, Don.” I obeyed, lying on my back on the wooden coffee table, my legs hanging off the end. Shawn’s naked mom threw one leg over me, and lowered her torso over my crotch. I felt her slide her pussy down over my cock, and felt the warm wetness slide down the shaft, until her pubic hair met mine. Her tits were dangling over my head, and I grabbed them both.
Mrs. T got in a nice rhythm as she fucked me. My teammates circled the table, and reached out to play with their female coach’s tits. Someone stuffed a cock in her face, Kip I think, and she sucked on it while grabbing two more cocks with her hands.
“Ooh, Mmmph!” I heard her moan as her lips stretched around Kip’s cock. She squeezed her pussy tightly around my cock, and thrust her hips rapidly. I knew I wasn’t going to last long, and it sounded like Mrs. T wasn’t either. “Ggrrrpph! MMooorrphh!”
My coach gyrated her hips around rapidly, and shuddered. I let loose with a load of jism, up into her mature pussy. She fell down onto my sweaty chest, her tits mashed against me.
Finally Mrs. T sat up, and lifted her pussy off my glistening cock. I stood up, wobbly, and immediately Kip took my place on the table. Mrs. T simply smiled and lowered herself back down onto Kip’s cock, and she was off to the races again.
I realized that I was starving, so I grabbed one of the sandwiches that were sitting out, and sat and watched the action for bit. My female coach was naked and humping my friend, while an entire team of naked baseball players surrounded her with their hard cocks. Those that weren’t getting direct action from Mrs. T’s pussy, mouth, or hand, were pulling their own cocks, or grabbing her tits.
Rejuvenated, I joined the game again, getting my hands on Mrs. T’s jiggling tits. Kip didn’t even last as long as I did, and soon Tim was under the coach and getting fucked.
Mrs. T got about half way through the team, and then started switching positions. She took Chris as she lied on her back on the coffee table, Mike while lying on the couch, she sat on Kyle’s lap on the couch as she fucked him, and finally Eric fucked her as she lied on the kitchen table with her legs over his shoulders as he stood between her legs.
It was then that I noticed Shawn standing in the back, naked, stroking his hard cock. Mrs. T noticed him too, and called out, “C’mon, Shawn! I can see you want a piece of me too.” Shawn sauntered over to his mom, and she gave him a kiss on the lips. She reached down and grabbed his cock and stroked it slowly. Shawn played with her tits. Mrs. T pulled him over to the couch, pulled him on top of her, and guided his cock into her pussy. Shawn fucked his own mom in front of his friends, and if either of them was ashamed they sure didn’t act like it. They fucked rapidly and loudly, and both seem to have loud orgasms.
We did one more round after dark, and I got to fuck Mrs. T doggie style as she bent over the table, my crotch slapping into her rippling ass. By the third time through the team, Mrs. T was lying back on the floor, a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other, for several guys. It was nearly dawn by the fourth round, and a sloppy drunk Mrs. T was having to suck my cock to get it rock hard again. And she did a great job on it. It was great feeling having her wet lips sliding up and down my sore shaft. I finished in her pussy, lying on top of her on the couch.
CHAPTER SEVEN: FIREBUSH MOM
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