Since I’m on a bit of a kick of indulging fantasies, I’ve decided to trot out one of my old favorites:
Imagine an entire baseball team all lined up in a row. Baseball players: strong and lean. They’re in line for me. We’re in a wide open place in the middle of the country. A conservative place. Iowa, perhaps. We’re in a baseball diamond lit by stadium lights but all around are cornfields. Pickup trucks line the parking lot. A few lonely souls are in the bleachers to cheer on the home team. The game is over now, so they’re drinking and waiting for the post-game show.
I’m the show they’re all waiting for. The home team has won and I’m the reward. I’m the local beauty, the winner of the local pageant and Miss Sweet Cream Ice Cream Princess.I’m wearing a pale blue dress. I have a purple sash over my shoulder that says “Regents County Fair, Best Pussy 2015”.
I know my duties to the winning team and I’m glad that the opposing team won. It’s a lot more exciting to let the strange men from another white-bread town take a whack at my pussy. The local boys are good, but I longed for some strange, stiff meat that didn’t know my name. After all, I could fuck the men around town any time if I wanted to. Not one of them would stop me from unzipping him, blowing him, riding him until he shot his load up into me with a gasp. So it was nice to have some new bulls to ride me.
There’s a bench in the middle of the baseball diamond. I sit. The wood is cold on my ass. Lean back and part my thighs until I’m spread-eagled in the middle of the baseball diamond. My pussy quivers with heat. I’m begging to be fucked, like a ravenous slut eager for her man meats.
I love sex better than ice cream, or a soothing bath, or the sweet salvation of Jesus. Since the first moment I saw a cock I knew I needed to be filled with them as often as possible. So I was the perfect girl for this job.
Just get the picture in your head: hot, athletic men lined up all in a tidy row, stripping off jerseys to reveal taut abs. Tight baseball pants peeled down, kicked away. Knee-high athletic socks peeled down into a ball and abandoned. Cocks, some long, some thick, some short, all gradually getting harder. Firm calves, powerful thighs, buttocks carved from stone. Erections now stiff with fat heads bulging and dripping at the mere sight of my body. Fucking machines ready to pump my cunt full of their semen.
The hometown team stood off by the fence, a defeated bunch of losers. They watched jealously as the winning team stripped and prepared to fuck me as their prize. The home boys wanted me, too, but they couldn’t have me tonight. I was a special delicacy and you had to earn me. I flashed them a broad smile just to rub it in.
The first player steps up. I’m dripping dew for him. He pressed his purple-pink head, fat and bulbous, between my lips. He presses forward and I feel a ring of flesh opening me, stroking in and out, settling deep. The man groans, finds his rhythm and my hips match his. I catch his eyes, dark and deep. He stares at my jiggling breasts, and then at his erection disappearing into my gushing mystery of velvet folds. I lift my hips to give him all of my sheath, so that he dives deep with each stroke. Thrusts, harder, faster; breath and heart race. He stiffens, and spills, and I moan at his absence as he pulls out. He leaves me yearning, but the next man steps into place, his dark man-flesh stiff and strong. And he impales me with it, I with a moan and he with a shuddering groan as my secret enwraps him.
I glance over at the hometown team. They look so forlorn, watching their County Princess being fucked by strangers. Their pants bulge. It delights me. Maybe they’ll play harder next time to earn a reward in my accommodating cunt.
Man after man the baseball players step between my quivering thighs, penetrating, fucking, cumming. When they pull out they leave a trail of cream dribbling out of me. The cum slicks my cunt for the next man’s cock.
I give myself to them all. Big cocks stretch my pussy. Little cocks tickle my cunt. Some men fuck fast and feverishly, others like the slow dance of a long-time lover. Some like to slap their thick meat on my clit to make me squeal. Some moan, some groan, some grunt. Curved cocks, straight cocks. Each feels different but all feel the same. A bobbing garden of hard pleasure-flesh. I want to milk the joy out of each of those erections, to steal their power for myself.
The ones in line watch me, naked cocks hooked and glistening, eyes glued to my bounding body, ears tuned to my moans. They stroke themselves, keeping those flesh rods stiff and eager to dip into my honey. The men who have already gone gather around my head. I lick their shrinking dicks, sucking the taste of my cunt-juice and the salty goodness of their semen. I smell the funky stank of their balls so close to my face, an unpleasant, tangy smell, but the alchemy of lust makes it like perfume to me. I want to lick the salt right between their legs. I want to taste sweat and cum mingling on my tongue.
“I’m ready to receive you. You’ve earned your reward. Cum inside my cunt,” I whisper to each as my breasts bobble with his strokes. And each man does his best to fill me up with his creamy milk. It leaks out my flaming lips, seasons my sweaty thighs. I’m sloppy with jizz but I want more, more.
“Fuck me like you don’t believe in God,” I hiss.
They grope my breasts, brace my hips, thrust deep and long and strong into me until I’m dripping, arching, screaming. Until my orgasm tears a hole through the fabric of rural boredom. Until my insides are clenching, aching for them to stop, or keep going, I don’t even know anymore. The men keep me cumming until I’m tired, but I’m still not sated. My cunt has left a puddle of cum and lust on the bench, my pussy is full of their slippery spunk. I’ve climaxed more than I can count, but my pussy is still hungry.
“I’m such a slut,” I moan as man after man fucks me ruthlessly — or gently, rhythmically, forcefully. Orgasms flow from between my legs like poetry. I’m trembling, aching; hot, shivery; spread open to receive the gift of their pearls deep in plush, fetid furrows of flesh. Yes, I’m a slut. It’s my true nature, to fuck. I would fuck all day, all night if I could. I would fuck up and down the country roads from Minnesota to Texas, unbuckling the Bible belts and receiving sweaty sermons from their corn-fed meat.
When the men are sated, the coach of the team is last. But he’s not going to fuck me. He kneels down and starts to eat me out. He presses a finger into my asshole up to the knuckle, which is just what I need. He doesn’t care that my pussy is all cummy, his tongue penetrates me, he sucks my folds into his mouth, he flatters me with fast flicks of his tongue-tip on my clitoris. A moment later I’m coming again, a huge orgasm that forces my hips into the air. I let out a guttural moan. When I’ve finished, he slaps my pussy sharply with his palm. My soaking lips make a resounding smack in the night and I scream and writhe as it sends vibrations through my guts.
He pulls out his cock. He’s the biggest of all, but he’s not going to let me have that beautiful cock of his. I beg him for it, but he shakes his head. Instead he stands over me, stroking, his face turning red. At last he cums, splashing his jizz across my belly and breasts in waves. I watch his expression with delight as it twists in pleasure. I arch my back as if trying to catch the falling rain of his semen.
“Good game,” I say to the coach. He gives me a wink and hands me a towel.