A Rat Trap At The Steelers Game

Author's Note: The story below is a sort of tribute to sarahhh, who's work you can find right here on this very site (check out the author index). All events are fictional, and any similarity between this story and real life is wishful thinking on my part! Apologies to Sarah for stealing all the characters from her stories! Feedback welcome, but try and be nice :)

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I'd read her stories online for a while. Perhaps not years, but certainly long enough that she'd long since become the only entry in my "favourite authors" list. Sure, I read the odd story from other people while I was visiting the site, but I really only visited to see if she'd added anything new and then browsed the "new stories" section if not. So, I figured, what's the difference... logging on to see what she's up to, and flying over to the US and checking out a Steelers game - it's nearly the same thing, right?

I booked my tickets, London to Philly. 8 hours to fly and think about the possibility of meeting her. Would she even be there? How would I recognise her? How would I introduce myself? "Hi, I read some of your work on the 'net" just didn't seem to cut it. By the time I got on the plane I was convinced it was all a waste of time, but I'd bought the tickets - at the very least I might get a decent cheese steak sandwich out of the trip, and I'd already paid for them. Sat on the plane I racked my brains about how to introduce myself if the chance came up, and slowly convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a crazy hope after all. Recognising her should be easy - Steelers jersey, Steelers jacket, red hair cascading down over the yellow and black shoulders, covering up a great figure with fantastic breasts, burned into my memory after many evenings imagining my lips and fingertips tracing their outline. That'd be pretty unique, surely?

As we landed, I realised right away that my plan wasn't going to be quite so simple. The airport was full of black and yellow jackets, and while there wasn't a whole lot of red hair walking around, there weren't so many great figures and fantastic breasts either. Most of the people milling around the airport looked more like armchair football fans. She'd stand out well enough if I could get close enough to actually see her - but the black & yellow Steelers uniform wasn't going to help. On the contrary, if the game was anything like the arrivals terminal I was going to struggle a lot. And then a plan sprang to mind. I grabbed my luggage and jumped in the car the hotel had sent, remembering that the Rittenhouse offered free WiFi. I logged on without even heading to my room, and while the concierge desk busied themselves with checking me in and moving my bags upstairs I started putting together a series of messages I hoped she'd pick up on, then ran up a phone bill I hoped wouldn't top a thousand bucks in calls to Heinz Field, calling in favours, offering bribes and pleading as though my life depended on it.

A few hours later, at the start of the game, I rolled up to the gate with my tickets in my shaking hand - I'm pretty sure the guy on the gate thought there was something wrong with me as I stood there shaking and holding out the ticket stub, but eventually I moved on in and took my seat and began to watch the game. Sure enough, in front of sixty five thousand people, my messages started to appear on the scoreboard below the game plays... "Happy Birthday Sarah, love Cousin Hamish in Suite #1". 10 minutes went by before the next. "Sarah, surprise on your special day - join us in Suite #1, love your roomies Heather, Jasmine and Jennifer". It was working - the stadium guys had fallen for my pleas to make it a very special surprise birthday for a big Steelers fan. It had cost a fortune, renting the suite at such short notice, but it might just turn out to be worth it. Even if she wasn't here and was watching it with Rachael on a TV at some bar somewhere, she'd surely see the messages scrolling by?

Even the crowd were starting to notice, and every time a message came up they'd glance at the windows of the suite, too reflective to see anything but themselves, and cheer at the thought that all these people had gathered for a surprise birthday party. "Hey Sarah, Russell & Laurie here waiting to see you in Suite 1! Happy Birthday sis!", even managing to drown the boos when "Many happy returns pet, Browns Fan Robert in S1" came up. "Jim & Freddie bring early Christmas greetings to Suite #1 Sarah!" brought a few puzzled looks, but on and on it went. "Kisses from Kara, looking forward to seeing you again in Suite #1 before we hit the bar again!", "Hey Sarah, Suite #1 for now, party in the garden at home after the game, Dad xx", and on and on . "Hotdog guy to Suite 1 please, running out at Sarah's party! Thanks, Dr June".

I sat in the suite for an hour, hearing the occasional knock on the door, a few male voices discussing exactly what was going on inside (mostly along the lines of "Hey, dude, reckon we can get in this Sarah chick's party? I bet she's got a ton of hot chick friends?") and then eventually they'd wander off when they didn't get an answer. The messages kept scrolling on the screen, and the crowd had stopped cheering - bored of seeing them all go by, they'd started ignoring them.

And then, a knock followed by a single female voice which made me freeze halfway through my Yuengling: "Hello? This is Sarah. Who's in there?" Now what? Was it the right Sarah? In the end, I decided to stick with a theme - it'd either worked this far, in which case why change it, or it was the wrong person anyway. I answered "A friend of Dr Todd" and waited. And waited, and waited. A long pause, during which I wasn't sure if she'd left or not, or even if she'd understood the reference. And then in reply "Aww, and it's not even Valentine's Day!". She'd understood, and that meant it was really her. I walked to the door and opened it almost not daring to imagine what lurk on the other side. A bunch of armed police summoned to arrest a stalker? An angry boyfriend, ready to show me just what he thinks of my little game?

To my relief, neither. Just Sarah, stood there with her hair hanging down over her shoulders, Steelers cap keeping it in place, looking amused and challenging at the same time. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked and I realised I was stood with my mouth slightly open - partly in surprise at her actually coming, and partly in surprise at the fact that she looked better than I'd dared hope - staring, leaving her stood in the hallway with wandering by on their way to the bathrooms and refreshment stands people looking at her wondering if she's the Sarah they'd seen mentioned on the board. I swallowed, managed a "Sorry! Of course!" in a voice that didn't quite sound like my own, and stepped to the side and motioned her in. She entered the room, closed the door behind her and brushed against me just enough to make it apparent she'd done it deliberately and just as deliberately kept it brief and innocent, then looked at me again with that challenging, half-laughing look in her eyes - a look that said more than words could and yet at the same time said precisely nothing. I rallied a little and decided to play along with the challenge.

"So, I didn't know if you'd pick up on the messages. When you didn't appear in the first hour, I thought maybe I'd made a mistake being subtle if I wanted to hook an American..." with a smile.

"Sorry, I had something I had to finish up with first," she replied, laughing. "He'll get over it."

"Oh, did I drag you away from something important? Sorry... I figured you'd be watching the game."

"Yeah, I was. But a girl can do two things at once, you know. We, unlike most men, can multitask. And besides, it's cheaper than buying drinks and more fun at the same time!"

For the first time I noticed she seemed like she'd had a drink or two already - the hint in what she'd said didn't hurt, but also some blood was starting to return to my brain and it was catching up with the conversation. I wondered just what I'd interrupted, and smiled at the thought of a disappointed bar left to wonder why she'd left so early in the game. I started to notice again just how hot she is, and gave her an appraising glance before offering her a beer - and as soon as I'd said it I realised what it must have sounded like in the context of her last comment and made to apologise. She stopped me before I'd even gotten a word out by laughing and stepping closer, taking the beer I'd opened just before she knocked from my hand and draining it, smiling at me and flouncing over to the couch in front of the window and settling down to watch the game.

"Sure, " she said, "you can serve me for a while as I watch the game."

And then my mind did a little double-take... I was suddenly sure she'd said "service" not "serve". Trying very hard to think about anything else, I grabbed a couple of beers and made my way round to the couch where I discovered the only way I was going to fit on it at all was with her legs across my lap, and went to reach for her ankles with one hand to lift them and slide underneath. She had other ideas, though, and bent her right leg at the knee, the left still on the sofa, looking straight into my eyes, silently daring me not to look down at her panties which I knew had to be showing, a mischievous grin on her face and one eyebrow cocked. With a massive effort I managed to keep my gaze on her face and sat, at which point she lifted her leg back up and placed her foot on my inner thigh, seemingly oblivious to the bulge in my trousers just inches from her foot, and the white patch of cotton between her legs being slowly revealed as her pleated skirt balanced on her thigh. I passed her a beer and took the opportunity to steal a glance I'm pretty sure she caught at her panties. Had Richard bought these from his wheelchair, I wondered? Or had they been passed around for Thanksgiving?

She sipped her beer for a while, watching the game out of the expanse of glass that formed the luxury suite at Heinz, and then in the most natural voice in the world said - almost as though talking to herself - "This is a great game. It'd be PERFECT if someone could go down on me really well while I watched it..." with a smile on her face. She didn't even look over at me, just kept sipping her beer. Well, if it wasn't an invitation, it sure sounded enough like one that I was prepared to take the chance. I turned slightly in my seat and bent toward her thighs, which were apart just enough for me to get between them. Her foot and leg didn't move at all... no indication that I was supposed to continue or to stop. I started to kiss the inside of her bare thigh very gently, and still no response. Running the tip of my tongue round in little figure 8's on the soft, pale skin of her leg, working my way slowly from the knee to her crotch and back, I expected some form of reaction - but nothing except the occasional "Go Dixon!" or "C'mon Parker!" as the game progressed.

This wasn't quite what I expected, or what I was used to - I'm sure Julia, Maria and the other roomies have a natural advantage over me being girls, but even so I'm used to being more entertaining than a football game when I'm between a girl's legs. I decided I'd just have to work harder, and set out to win her over, dancing the tip of my tongue over the white cotton of her Fruit of the Loom panties, pressing just hard enough to tease, then back to her thighs, gently running my fingertips along her lips and feeling the wispy red hair below them while I grazed the very tops of her thighs with my teeth, kissing and biting ever so gently, when I finally felt her thigh shift to allow me slightly better access, and at the same time could see a dampness on the outside of her panties.

Biting back a smile at the sudden and uninvited thought that Dr Montgomery and his flock would wholeheartedly approve, I began to press a little harder with my fingers through the material of her panties, feeling her lips part at my touch, knowing the cotton would be moving just a little above my fingers, sliding over her clit and adding to the sensations of my lips and teeth on the delicate skin right at the top of her leg and my fingers teasingly exploring her entrance, thinking of her cousins Jesse and Leslie and wondering if he and she had been imagining this sight as long as I had before they got to touch and taste her. And oh, the taste. I could smell the musk of her excitement, my face so close to her pubic mound, and my fingers damp to the touch even through her panties. I couldn't resist breaking off from nuzzling her pelvis just long enough to lick my own fingertips and taste the sweet taste of her juices. Words fail me, even now - I want to describe it as I remember it, but somehow the words don't seem right. Heavy, female, sweet and yet not, earthy and yet not like any other kind of earthy taste I've ever experienced - unlike anything this side of heaven or hell.

The game seemed to be going well - or at least, I guessed it was. I couldn't see anything from my vantage point but a perfect stomach, a smooth thigh and a triangle of white cotton shimmering with a sweet dampness, but she seemed more animated than before, and the "Go on! Keep going!" exclamations where increasing in frequency. The plays must've been pretty tense, as she was lifting her hips slightly and breathing in with a sound that suggested she was biting her lip. Pushing my tongue under the side of her panties while still teasing through them with my fingers I got another taste of her juices and nearly came on the spot. If I wasn't sure before that she was enjoying this as much as me, I was at that moment.

Pushing my middle two fingers slightly deeper into her, and bending the other two at the first knuckle so that half their length would press against her lips on either side at the same time, I felt the flimsy material stretch and realised that I could see the outline of her clit through the wet, white fabric - the perfect target through the thin cotton for my tongue and lips, and one I quickly switched to caressing.

She bent her left leg and trapped my head between her thighs so that I could clearly feel her movements, pressing her pelvis to my mouth in response to my sucking, flicking motion on her clit, cool air being drawn through the cotton of her panties and over her clit meaning my suction wasn't too much and yet at the same time was exaggerated by the motion of the weave over her hard little button as I pressed my fingers into her through the panties. It was obvious by now that she wanted something inside her but at the same time I was unwilling to interrupt the rhythm... and another unbidden thought about Shannon, Sarah and the dangers of wishing for a dick popped into my head and made me smile once again, almost breaking my concentration, followed a split-second later by another thought about Shannon - imagining her listening in as I ate Sarah as her boyfriend Sean had once unwittingly listened to Sarah go down on her.

And then my concentration was wrested back to the hot redhead lying in front of me by the sudden arrival of her hand in front of my face, pulling her panties to one side and allowing me unrestricted access to her. How could I resist?

I slipped my tongue inside first, pushing deep inside her and tasting every drop as she sucked air in hard through her teeth, feeling her wetness on my cheeks and knowing that I - like Eric, Julia and Britney before me - was sampling Sarah's most secret buffet. Her red hair tickled the tip of my nose as I made my tongue soft and ran it up her lips and over her clit, substituting my fingers for my tongue inside her and pushing inside her oh-so-gently, teasing with just the first knuckle of two fingers until she reached down and grabbed my hand and pushed it harder inside her, burying my two fingers inside her to the palm and holding it there not letting me remove it. As I flicked the tip of my tongue over her clit inside my mouth my lips sealed around her hood, sucking just hard enough to make the clit stand proud and hard - as though it needed the help - and then I tapped gently with the tip of my tongue made hard and firm before circling it wickedly fast.

Her breath came faster and faster and the pressure of her hand on mine harder and harder as I rocked my palm against her pubic mound, pressing with the base of my hand to match the pressure of my fingers inside her and the pressure of my tongue against her clit, timing the pressure of my tongue to match the rocking motion of my hand and her hips. Was this how she looked and sounded with Carrie's fingers inside her and lips on her clit, I wondered?

And then she came. Hard. It took me by surprise, and at first I struggled to swallow the hot squirt from between her legs, losing much of it over my chin, but managed to clamp my mouth over her and catch the last few drops before licking my own fingers clean as she let her hand fall limply to her side. For the first time since bending forward between her legs I bent back and looked over her body, draped over the sofa, eyes half-closed and hair tangled where she'd had her other hand in it, chest rising and falling under her tight top with her breathing, rapid and shallow at first but slowing rapidly. A wave of envy passed over me at the thought of her brother and sister and father and the times they'd shared at Christmas that I'd missed out on, but it was quickly snuffed and replaced with a sense of wonder at the sensual creature I'd just had the privilege of sampling in the most intimate manner.

As she looked up and smiled at me, my heart leapt - and then we both looked out the window and noticed that the game had finished. A security guard stood inside the room, a smile on his face as he looked down at her with her panties still pulled to one side, and as we both looked up at him in a mixture of surprise and indignation he told us he'd been there nearly 20 minutes - and with a slow clap announced that he'd remember what he'd seen for quite a while to come, but we really had to leave, and added as an afterthought that the Steelers had won the game. We got up and she entered the corridor, where she pushed her soaking panties into my hand before the Steelers cap and jacket blended with the crowd and she disappeared into the masses, swept along invisible in a current of Steelers fans, the exact image I'd dreaded on the plane would hide her and mean we'd never meet.

Only then did I realise I hadn't even told her my name, or got her number - but before I could feel sad I marvelled at the taste of her on my lips and my tongue, and the damp sticky warmth of her panties in my hand, and decided that maybe the Cheese Steak could wait... I had something to attend to back at the hotel first.

As I turned to leave the security guard gave me a wink and I grinned, and I shot the only parting comment that seemed appropriate over my shoulder as I too joined the masses thronging for the exit: Go Steelers!