Tackling the Team (The Vassi Collection)

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Tackling the Team (The Vassi Collection) Page 12

by Marco Vassi


  I suppose I might have continued the argument with myself, but my body had a different perspective. It was going on without any need for approval from the mind. My legs were thrashing and my nipples getting hard and my cunt starting to drip. Everywhere there were hands or mouths or cocks or tits pressed on me. I was awash in a sea of sensuality, and my hungry flesh was drinking it in.

  “What a sweet pussy,”‘ Frank hissed. “Look at that, Laura, isn’t it pretty.”‘

  “I can hardly wait for you to fuck her,”‘ Laura replied. “And after you cum I’m going to eat your sperm right out of her tight little snatch.”‘

  It seemed odd to hear a husband and wife talk like that, but I suspected it was healthier in its way than most of what goes on between conventional couples. By this time I was highly enflamed, twisting my hips and thrusting my pelvis out. Everything was being touched except my cunt, and I was getting delirious with desire. Which is what I guess Larry wanted.

  “That’s it, baby,”‘ he said, “throw that pussy up in the air. Come on, give it here, push it out. Beg with it, Julie. I want to see your pussy beg for my cock.”‘

  I reached higher with my cunt, spread my legs wider, tried by some physiologically impossible muscular trick to open the lips by themselves, to offer an open hole to the prick I was getting desperate for. At the same time, my mounting frenzy was working itself out elsewhere, and I began to literally gobble the cock in my mouth, sucking it into my throat, lapping it, teething it gently. My hands were flying over the cocks I had curled my fingers around, jerking them frantically. And my tits were aching as two women sucked and licked them into they mouths. Now two fingers were in my asshole and I was clenching my cheeks to draw them in deeper.

  “Fuck me,”‘ I moaned, my lips stretched around the bulging base of Jim’s hot cock.

  “Fuck her,”‘ said Melanie, “give it to her. Shove that big black cock up that pink twat.”‘

  “Yeaah,”‘ Larry said in a low growl, “Yeaah.”‘

  And he brought the tip of his cock close against the edges of my cunt lips. I moaned when I felt it and fucked my pussy harder into the air, trying to surround the silky crown.

  “She’s really hot,”‘ Tom said.

  “Fuck her,”‘ said Jim.

  “Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her,”‘ they all chanted.

  “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,”‘ I groaned, my mouth stuffed with throbbing cock.

  And with that Larry let himself drop forward and sank slowly and ponderously onto my body, his code slicing into my cunt smoothly and surely. He entered for what seemed like an eternity, going deeper and deeper until he was hitting the farthest niche of my clutching vault. My cunt engulfed him like a sword-swallower gulps down a shaft of steel. His entry completed the circuit. I was totally plugged in. And with that, I cut loose and let myself go bananas, writhing on the rug in that strange room with nine people clustered round my body like priests around an altar, carrying out some occult rite, a sacrifice to a merciless god.

  Now that other, more ancient language seized our beings and we suffered a grand glossolalia of our bodies, fucking with the same abandon which grips those who speak in tongues. The only sounds were the rasping of labored breath and the moans of ecstatic release and the quick chirping cries of climax. Jim spilled his seed in my mouth and I sucked his pulsing cock dry of cum, pulling on it with my lips until he had to force my head backwards to ease his tender prick out of my voracious grasp. He was immediately replaced by Tom, whose prong was ready to burst from the hand job I had been giving him, and I didn’t miss a beat as one cock slid out and another slid in, the second easing in on the slippery coat of sperm that covered my tongue.

  He must have been hotter than I thought for no sooner did his cock touch the back of my throat than he came inside me, spraying my mouth with his acrid juice. Almost like a wine taster, I could distinguish between the different flavors of sperm in my mouth as I swallowed the thick gobs of hot spunk lustily.

  “What a fantastic mouth,”‘ Tom whispered as he pumped the last of his load down my throat.

  “Let me have her,”‘ said Harvey, and as Tom slid his softening cock out from between my lips, Harvey thrust his stiff wide staff into the vacated space. Three cocks in a row spreading my lips, three cocks in a row fucking my throat, three cocks in a row being licked by my tongue! Both my hands were now free and I brought them up to the base of Harvey’s cock and started jerking him off, bringing him to a climax as the head of his cock romped inside my hot cum-smeared mouth. The overall excitement of the group was so high that he was also at the edge of orgasm, and after a very brief flurry of strokes I felt the thick column begin to pulse and throb, and I opened my mouth wide to pull him all the way inside. I released my grip on the base of his cock and immediately he let loose, his pelvis twitching and the head of his prick exploding, shooting jet after jet of swirling jism on my tongue. I licked his cock lasciviously, and swallowed his cum greedily.

  All this while, Larry was pumping steadily into my pussy. It was not that I had been unaware of him, but that the irresistible sensation of having three men, one after the other, cum in my mouth took priority over everything else. But now as I lay there, my lips raw and my throat rank with the taste and smell of so much sperm, two women still sucking my nipples, Larry started to move in earnest. He was propped up on his palms, his elbows locked, his huge shoulders twice as wide as mine looming over me.

  “Now I’m gonna ride you, baby,”‘ he said, “gonna make believe you’re a wall of defensive linemen and I have to screw my way through you.”‘

  I looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but a raging fire. I couldn’t know for certain whether he was in his right mind or not. But when he started moving, it really didn’t make any difference. His hips combined the erratic dips of a butterfly with the brute force of a rhinoceros. The sockets must have been hinged with ball-bearings, for it didn’t seem that bone and sinew could produce such fluidity and range of expression. And the power was beyond all my expectations. Although not as tall or as heavy as Jeff, he had the fullback’s gift of drive, that almost inhuman thrust which is necessary to break through a wall of three-hundred pound tacklers.

  He rode endlessly, and after a while the others simply sat by the side and watched. The three men who had been sated weren’t yet ready for another round, and Frank said he would fuck me next, “after the kid had loosened her up a bit.”‘ I hoped he had been joking, because I couldn’t imagine anything heavier than what was happening. My legs were stretched to they limit, my feet high in the air. My arms went out to either side of me and my fingers curled in the thick rug. And Larry rode me with an unprecedented ferocity. His body flamed and fell and scooped and banged and raged. He slammed into my cunt a hundred times with unabated vigor, until my pussy lips felt as though they had been reduced to porridge. I could no longer feel anything but a roaring heat in my hole, a fire he kept stoking as he fucked me. After a certain point I realized that his capacity was greater than anything I had seen, and I started to let myself encompass the scope of his assault. I knew that if I allowed myself to reach for an orgasm in the same scale as the fuck he was proposing, I would blow out all my fuses. And in front of an audience to boot.

  “What the hell?”‘ I thought, and surrendered to the level of intensity Larry wanted me to experience.

  Now the heat and tension really built, for each time he stroked into me, I quantum-leapt that much closer to orgasm. It was no longer simply a furrowing process whereby my pleasure came from having my pussy reamed out and battered; it had become a cooperative venture, in which I had to match his extraordinary power with my own capacity for opening and grasping, letting him explode into the deepest recesses of my cunt and then using my cunt to clasp him tightly as he escaped. In this way I was raised to a height of striving I had never considered before, and when I was pumping and wriggling and fucking with more abandon and lus
tiness and simple muscular exertion than I ever had, I felt the first surge of climax building inside me.

  In the same way that a body-surfer will wait out the smaller waves and put himself in position only when a truly superior wave is seen, and is then awed and somewhat frightened because the wave that is now rushing in is far more powerful than he had imagined it would be in relation to what had gone before, so I felt that the orgasm which roared through my body would turn me head over heels and plunge me into the foam until I sputtered and swallowed and perhaps drowned, my body being pulled by the undertow to a salty grave.

  I don’t remember precisely what happened. Arms flailing, legs kicking, piercing scream, blood pounding, heart stopping, anus opening, tits flopping, fingers curling, cunt exploding. All of that and more. My mind an irresistible stream of colors and sounds, hallucinatory shapes and intimations of endless spaces. Pure ideas shimmering like crystals in sunlight. The entire history of life on earth recapitulated in an instant. Utter clarity of understanding, sharp and dancing perceptions. A sense of bliss, of eternal happiness, of kindness and joy. Christmas bells. The entire vast and mysterious universe spinning in the center of my forehead.

  And then a gradual re-adjustment, a focusing back on the ordinary reality, the mundane level of awareness. Back on the planet, in the year, in the city, in the room, in my body, and feeling Larry’s cock slither out of me like a snake darting from under a slimy rock.

  “Oh,”‘ I said, encompassing everything. It was a moment when I would have given anything to be with a person, anyone, who had some inkling of the profundity of my experience, who would authenticate that what I had just felt was something special, something . . . real.

  But when I looked around all I could see were hideous grins. I’m sure that they were all good people and all meant well, but they were so distant, so strange, so removed from my intimate self, that when they smiled all I could see were baboon death masks.

  “Wow,”‘ Laura Williams said, “she really is the hottest little piece of ass I have ever seen.”‘ She turned to her husband. “Come on, Frank, you fuck her. Put a load up her snatch. I want to suck her pussy so bad I can hardly hold myself back. But I want to eat your cum.”‘

  “Why don’t you eat this while you’re waiting,”‘ said Tom December. His cock had become hard again, and he was staring at Laura’s mouth with a salacious glint in his eyes. He held his cock in one hand. “Come on, Laura,”‘ he urged, “wrap your pretty lips around this while Frank fucks the slut.”‘

  She was already on her hands and knees and she turned toward him, walking on all fours, her eyes heavily lidded, her mouth hanging open. I saw her ass sway as she moved away from me. Harvey had begun to screw Karen in the ass, and the others were beginning to arrange themselves in new positions and combinations. I knew I was in for an all-nighter.

  Frank Williams lowered his bulk over me, and curling one arm under my belly, flipped me over. “Lift your pretty little ass in the air,”‘ he said, “I want to fuck you from behind.”‘

  I didn’t think there was anything left inside me, but the minute he slid his cock into my dripping pussy, I knew that I had to regain my orgasmic balance. I had flown very high, and now I was going to get very low. I put my head on the floor and began to grunt like a sow as he plowed into my insatiable hole.

  Eight

  The season began to gather momentum, taking on a life of its own, with a logic and direction which obliterated all other rhythms. The state of the world, wars in distant lands, poverty and restlessness in the nation, the promptings of my heart, all fell into dark shadows as the fierce light of victory blazed more brightly in our eyes. The team had not lost a game, and our collective mood was that of an army within sight of the citadel we were marching to capture. Winning the league championship, and the superbowl, meant fantastic bonuses for the players, and up to five thousand dollars more apiece for each of the cheerleaders. In addition, the prestige meant bigger crowds, and higher fees for television coverage, so that the entire operation would be bathed in an overflow of opulence. In addition, of course, there was the simple animal excitement of coming out on top. And for several weeks I forgot everything else except the great drumming excitement that filled all our days.

  As so often happens when one is totally involved, I became wound up with an extraordinary tension. I wasn’t aware of it until one afternoon, in the Chicago dressing room, for no apparent reason I began to tremble and weep. Sandy came over to comfort me and asked what was wrong. To my surprise, I spilled out a tale of confusion and unhappiness, feelings I had not even been aware of. I told her of what Tony had said, and how used I felt after the party at the Williams’ apartment. And confessed that along with a sense of ebullience I was being slowly filled with a deep disgust at myself.

  “I’m all right as long as I remember that this is all a process I’m exploring and don’t identify with it,”‘ I said at last when my sobs had subsided. “But what with all the pressure from the season and the sex scenes I keep getting into, I can’t help but crack sometimes I guess.”‘ I smiled weakly and added, “I’ll be all right.”‘

  She patted my cheek and said, in that delightfully brisk way of hers, “Sugar, all you need is a little vacation to get you out of this rut. God, it’s a wonder we don’t all come down with the heebie-jeebies. But most of us have been around a few seasons, so I guess we’re used to it. And I’m afraid that this is nothing. If the team keeps winning, by the time we reach the end of the season the tension will be enough to stun you.”‘

  I don’t know whether it was the unaccustomed tenderness, or the fact that Sandy really seemed to understand my vibrations, or perhaps a deep and long-standing desire on my part, but when I put my head against her chest to bask in her warmth, the initial feeling of friendliness gave way to a warmth which I was all too familiar with. Something stirred in my cunt, and my lips went slack, not just with relaxation but with the first stirring of desire.

  I suppose she felt it too, and now that I look back on it I’m certain that she had been patiently waiting for me to arrive at that spot. What made the moment so lovely was my awareness that if I had never reciprocated, she would not have thought any the less of me or treated me more coldly. Her desire for me was clean, offered in a genuinely passive way, for me to respond to or not. And all of this without an overt gesture on her part since that first day when I walked into the dressing room and was almost swept into that vortex of female sensuality.

  Sandy held my head in her hands and lifted my face toward hers. Her eyes were shining and filled with such a limpid amiability that I all but melted on the spot.

  “Listen,”‘ she said, “we play back in Seattle next week. We can fly to San Francisco and spend five days there before the game.”‘ She paused, kissed my lips lightly, and added, “just the two of us. We’ll get a real fancy hotel room and eat champagne and strawberries for breakfast and paint the town red. And . . . not let a man anywhere near us.”‘ She looked deeply into my gaze. “O.K.?”‘ she said.

  “O.K.,”‘ I breathed. I knew that she was inviting me to have a brief fling with her, and that we would sleep together and make love and go to movies and in general behave like lovers. And at that instant, I could conceive of no more lovely thing in the world to do. I got very excited, almost like a teen-age girl, and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Sandy,”‘ I exclaimed, “just to do nothing but enjoy ourselves and have fun. What a treat!”‘

  “And no pressure, and no talk of football, or of dark brooding trainers with saturnine restrictions in their words.”‘

  I laughed at her description of Tony, and impulsively I kissed her, just joyfully at first, but as our lips blended into one another, my mouth parted and her quick pink tongue touched my own, sending strange lava-flows of desire down into my belly. I had had peripheral sexual contact with women, the most radical being Laura Williams’ ravenous sucking of my cunt after her husband blasted
his sperm into me, but I had never been directly involved; it had always come about as a result of our mutual contact in relation to a man or group of men. This confrontation with Sandy challenged something in me, and while my body squirmed, my mind experienced its own form of cerebral lust, a raunchy curiosity to understand myself in this new context.

  Sandy broke contact just as my hands were going toward her breasts. “Not here,”‘ she said. “Let’s wait until we can spread out and take our time. I dig you an awful lot and I want our first time to be right.”‘

  In response I smiled my gratitude, and we disengaged and set immediately to packing our bags. The rest of the team was catching a flight directly to Seattle, and as we were ready to leave, Marian and Irene waltzed in, having joined in the locker-room celebration after the game.

  “Boy, that’s fast,”‘ Marian said.

  “We’re splitting for San Francisco,”‘ Sandy told her. “We need a vacation.”‘

  “Oh, what a great idea,”‘ Irene chirruped. “Maybe I’ll come too.”‘

  “Sorry,”‘ Sandy said, “private party.”‘

  The two other women exchanged arched glances. “Well, pardon me,”‘ Irene intoned in her best imitation of a catty voice.

  The four of us looked around at one another and all burst into smiles. In a second we were all hugging in the middle of the room. Marian turned then to embrace me. “I’m very happy about this,”‘ she said. “I think it will really help you to get your head straight.”‘

  “Not to mention her quim,”‘ Irene purred.

  She was so obviously good-intentioned that I had to hug her, despite the seeming sharpness of her words. We exchanged kisses all around, and before I could fully digest the implications of what was happening, Sandy and I were in a cab to the airport, and then in a plane heading toward that jeweled and exotic city, the place where the cataclysmic hippie movement was born. As we winged west through the dark sky, Sandy’s hand slipped between us and her fingers intertwined with mine. I inclined my head toward her and we smiled at one another as we slipped into a light and relaxing sleep.

 

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