A Moms Superbowl Bet

This is another story from my perverted imagination. This story does have some mother/son incest in it, so if that bothers you, you should just move on. There is also bondage and a slight bit of sensual pain. It's in Group Sex, because that is what it is mainly about. The incest portion is relatively minor.

Again, this is

FICTION

. Abandon realism and enjoy. I don't use editors. I self-edit. If that bothers you, I don't care.

A Mom's Super Bowl Bet:

"Wings, Chips, Salsa, Guacamole, Veggie Tray, Deli Meats and Cheese, Crackers, Jalapeno Poppers, Beer, Bourbon, Vodka, Rum, Tequila, Mixers, and a nice white wine. That should do it." I thought to myself.

My 22-year old son was hosting a Super Bowl party at our house this afternoon. I was responsible for making sure that the refreshments were prepared and set up. He was busy getting the Livingroom and back porch ready. We had a 70-inch flat screen TV in the Livingroom, and he was setting up the 54-inch TV on the porch. It was a nice day her, so watching from outside was a nice option. He had invited about a dozen of his friends over for the party. I was expecting it to be a lot of fun. Weeeellllll, I'll let you decide on that.

So, my name is Amy Rogers. My bastard husband skipped out on us after I caught him fucking his secretary at work after 18-years of marriage. I took him to the cleaners in the divorce. Since he was the CFO of a rather large corporation, I made out VERY well. I got the house, car, and all our investments. I agreed to leave his 401k alone. He also wrote me a fat check for $2-million to keep the video I had secret from his family and friends. Oh, didn't I mention that? His secretary was a man, and my ex was playing the receiver. I wouldn't exactly call it blackmail. I never actually threatened him, but, when he found out that I had it, he made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

When our son found out about it, he refused to have any contact with his father. As I said, Ethan is 22-years old. He's in his last year of college, studying Mechanical Engineering. He is very out-going and has lots of friends. He's a really good-looking kid. He stands at 6' 1" tall, weighs in at around 220-pounds, light brown hair, brown eyes, and all muscle. He works out a lot to get rid of the stress of his classes. While I've never fanaticized about having sex with him, I'm not gonna lie; I have admired his form occasionally when he's been in the pool at home.

OK. Wings are in the oven. Everything else is ready to go. I need to get in a quick shower and get dressed before the kids begin showing up. I called out to Ethan to let him know that I was going upstairs to shower and get ready. I asked if he could keep an eye on the oven so the wings don't burn. Good to go.

I had stripped off my housedress and walked into the bathroom. Looking in the full-length mirror, I admired what I saw. I'm 5' 6" tall, and weigh 115-pounds. I like to keep myself in shape. I'm 42-years old, but people have often told me that I don't look a day over 35. Yeah, my breasts sag a bit, but what do you expect with a set of 38-Ds. I have full hips, and a slim waist that gives me a real nice set of curves. My legs are long and toned from working out at the gym 4-days a week. I haven't gone on a date since I caught Asshole (Not dating was by choice, not lack of invites), so I was not exactly well groomed. I have a pretty full bush that perfectly matches my flowing auburn hair. Finally, I gazed into the emerald green eyes staring back at me in the mirror.

First things first. Breaking away from my self-examination, I washed off the vibrator that I had used to relieve a bit of stress earlier this morning and put it back in the box under my bed with my other toys. I then showered, brushed my teeth, did a bit of make-up, and fixed my hair before getting dressed. I am a football fan, and it just so happened that my team was playing that day. Bra, panties, my team jersey, and a pair of shorts. Since I appreciated the looks I got from the guys that my son is friends with, I decided on the shorts to showcase my legs. A little harmless fun never hurt anyone, right?

The pre-game was on, and people started to show up. It was mostly guys, but there were 4 girls there too. They mainly came along with their boyfriends to hang out and party. I did notice more than a few admiring glances at my legs, even from a couple of the girls. I was also sneaking some glances of my own at a few of the guys. What can I say? I hadn't been laid in a few years. Toys only work so much on your own.

Of course, a couple of the guys showed up in the opposing teams jerseys, and there was a bit of good-natured trash talking going on. I had known these guys for quite a while, as they were Ethan's friends throughout college. Jack and Jerry were actually friends of his from elementary school. By the time the game came on, we had been partying for over an hour. The boys had the beer flowing, the girls were having mixed drinks, and I had 2 glasses of wine. We were all laughing and having fun.

I had been watching the game, but still playing hostess. I would occasionally need to refill the plates with snacks, and rotate between the Livingroom and deck to check on everything. I should probably mention the betting that was going on. I had purchased a couple of gift cards. There was a $50 card, a $25 card, and a $10 card for prizes. 1

st

, 2

nd

, and 3

rd

place. The amounts should be obvious. Everyone that walked through the door got a stack of Monopoly money. Bets were whatever you could sucker someone into taking. Whoever had the most money at the end of the game would win. Second place and third place were also awarded. There were a lot of crazy bets going on. I was not playing, because I was busy making sure everything else was being taken care of.

The third quarter just ended. My team was ahead by 14-points. We had been dominating since the second quarter. There was no way we could lose. We were also sitting on 1

st

and goal when the whistle blew to end the quarter. I admit it. My trash talking to Mike had gotten a bit over the top. I blame it on the shots that we had begun drinking at every touchdown. It was 21-7. 4-shots in three quarters. Plus, three glasses of wine.

"OK, Amy. You're so sure of it, let's put a bet on it." Mike insisted. I guess he was fed up with my trash talking.

"Sorry, Mike. I'm not playing the betting competition. I don't have any of the money to bet."

"OK. Just a personal bet between you and me." He offered.

"I'm not sure what I would bet. I'm short on cash right now." I countered. I had no intention on betting money with him. He was a college student, and I wasn't about to take any money that he needed away from him.

That's when fate intervened.

"Hey Ethan." Monica (Jack's girlfriend) called. "Us girls decided that we want to order pizza to be delivered after the game. We want some food before we have to drive home."

"Pizza Dare." Mike called out.

What now? The Pizza Dare?

"DUDE! Really? That's my mom, remember?" Ethan yelled to his friend.

"Hey, it was just a suggestion. She's been ragging on me all game, so I called her out to put up or shut up."

By this time, all the girls had come in from outside, and everyone was looking at us.

"Uuuummm, what's going on? Asked Monica.

"What's going on here, is that Amy has been trash talking the whole game. I just asked that if she was so confident, why not bet on it." Mike explained.

"So, what's the Pizza Dare?" Julia was never the sharpest knife in the drawer.

It was Brad that explained it. "The Pizza Dare is when a girl orders a pizza to be delivered, then answers the door completely naked. And shows everything to the pizza delivery driver."

I should probably give a little more background on myself here. I have always been a bit if a closet exhibitionist. I get excited when someone 'accidently' sees more of me than they should. For years I have been wandering around inside the house in just a tiny pair of panties and thin tee-shirt. I have, on occasion, 'forgot' to close my bedroom door completely when I go to shower or change clothes. More than once, I have been caught nude sunbathing or skinny-dipping in the pool when Ethan (and sometimes with his friends) came home unexpectedly. Only this time, Mike was wanting to make it blatant. There would be no quickly covering up and acting embarrassed. This time, the 'em' would not apply. It would be me BARE-ASSED, on purpose, in front of my son, all of his friends, and purposely strutting my stuff in front of a complete stranger. Damn, my panties were getting wet.

"OK."

Everyone turned to stare at me. I heard the word spoken, but it took a few seconds to figure out who said it, and why everyone turned to me. Shit. It was Monica that broke the silence.

"So, Mike, what are you offering?"

I finally found my voice. "A lap three song lap dance." I stated. After all, Mike was a 22-year old Adonis in real life. 6' 3" tall, 230-pounds of muscle, flowing locks of blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and, by the look of the tent in his pants that I had seen on a few occasions, VERY well endowed. He wanted nudity; he would get it. Besides, I was up 14-points heading into the final quarter.

"Uuuummmmm, mom? Perhaps you should rethink this. You aren't exactly sober right now." Ethan whispered to me.

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear. My team is up by two touchdowns and has been dominating the game. Besides, it's first and goal on the seven-yard line. We're about to go up by another touchdown, or a field goal at least. I'm just going to embarrass him a bit for being so bold. He needs to be taken down a notch." I explained confidently.

He seemed a bit less worried at that. Everyone got their drinks refreshed and sat down to watch the rest of the game. The talking had pretty much stopped as everyone now focused on how it would play out. The stakes had increased dramatically.

First down: a run up the middle for no gain. Second down: Sweep left for a loss of one. Their defense had stiffened during the second half of the third quarter. I heard two of the guys off to the side whispering and taking their monopoly money out. Third down: Shotgun formation. The ball was snapped. Blitz. The offense picked it up, and the quarterback slid to the right. THERE! The tight end had gotten clear in the back of the endzone. A perfect pass right between the numbers. I jumped up to scream in celebration -- when the ball bounced off the receiver and into the hands of the safety. He caught it in full stride, and never slowed down. 108-yard pick-six. Huh? Money was exchanged.

I just stood there dumbfounded. Mike was screaming as he filled the shot glasses. Well, shit. I downed my shot and relaxed a bit. We were getting the ball back, still up 7, and our defense had been crushing their offence all game. I still had that. Besides, our offense had been able to move the ball pretty well all game.

Touchback on the kick-off. The offense took the field. That's when two bad things happened. First, our coach went conservative. Two runs, and a short pass. Their defense took momentum from the pick-six, and got fired up. Three and out. They got decent field position off the punt.

Two words: Prevent Defense. The philosophy of the Prevent Defense is that the defenders back off in order to prevent a big play. They let the opposing offense complete short passes and gain short yardage, but they have to work their way slowly down the field. This gives the offense more time to make a mistake and turn the ball over. In reality, all the Prevent Defense does against a good team is Prevent you from winning. I was sitting on the couch screaming at the coach as I watched the other team march down the field, taking what the defense was giving them and score with just over two minutes to play.

21 -- 21. Tie game.

Kick-off, touchback, our ball on the 25-yard line, 2:05 (minutes:seconds) to go, they had three time-outs and the two-minute warning. I began to get nervous.

Apparently, the opposing coach didn't believe in the Prevent Defense. The momentum has shifted drastically, and the opposing players were jacked-up. First down: Blitz, sack, 5-yard loss, two-minute warning. Second down: Incomplete pass, clock stopped. Third down: 7-yard completion, time-out, Clock stopped at 1:42. Fourth down: Punt, fair-catch, Clock at 1:34, Ball on their 45-yard line, opposition with two time-outs left.

Fucking Prevent Defense!

First down: Draw play, gained 12-yards, no-huddle. First down: Screen pass, gained 8-yards, no huddle. Second down: Run up the middle, gained three yards, Time-out. Clock at 1:05. First down: Crossing pattern, gained 15-yards, tackled in-bounds, Let the clock run. First down: short running play to position the ball, let the clock run, time-out called at 3-seconds, ball at the 21-yard line, a chip-shot.

I had three hopes: a blocked Field-Goal, a bad snap, or a shanked kick. My odds were not very good. I could almost feel my clothes falling off my body as everyone cheered when the ball split the up-rights. Well -- fuck. Yeah, my pussy was wet. I was hoping that it wasn't soaking through my shorts.

Julia, bless her heart, handed me another shot with a concerned look on her face. I needed that right then. The cheering died down, and the monopoly money was counted. Mike got first place (Apparently, I wasn't the only one he bet at the beginning of the fourth quarter -- with some pretty good odds), Ethan came in second, and Jenny was third. I really doubt that anyone cares, but I thought I should mention it.

"OK. Time to order the pizza. What do we get, and how many?" Ethan called out.

I'm sure that the number and kinds of pizza that were ordered are not relevant, just that there was pizza ordered, and it was to be delivered. Time to suck-it-up, Buttercup.

"Hey, guys?" Julia spoke. "Won't it look a little weird to have Amy answer the door completely naked while there is a house-full of twenty-year olds fully dressed?" Thank God someone was still thinking.

"Yeah. I guess that would be kind of hard to explain, but we need the visual proof." Damn Mike. I had just begun to relax in the thought that my humiliation could be blunted. I was thinking that I would wear a robe until the doorbell rang, drop the robe, quickly deal with the pizza guy, then put my robe back on before anyone else could see me. Unfortunately, Monica shattered that thought.

"I have an idea." She jumped in. "I have a bunch of wireless webcams in my car for my Senior Project. We can set them up, connect to the wi-fi here, and watch from laptops in another room."

They all agreed. Four cams were brought in and set up. Three inside, and one hidden outside. Four laptops were set-up upstairs in the guest bedroom. It was decided that all four cameras would be recorded, and that Denise (who is a Media Production Major) would take the recordings and dub them together. In the meantime, everyone would be upstairs watching all four videos simultaneously.

I figured that I should probably get ready before the wet spot in my crotch began showing. I decided that since I had to do this, I would do it right. They wanted to humiliate me, well, I was going to turn the tables on them. No Fear. Be confident and proud.

"Fine." I said. "But, if I'm doing this, I'm going to do it right." Turning to the side, I continued. "Julia, would you help me get ready, please? I am a bit pushed for time to get ready the way I want."

She followed me up to my Master Suite.

"Red garter belt, mocha stocking, and red 5-inch heels." I said pointing to the dressed and closet as I began to undress. I put on the garter belt, then she assisted with clipping up the stockings. We went into the bathroom, and I fixed my makeup while she did my hair. I noticed her nose flair a couple of times as she was working. She smirked a bit as she handed me a couple of tissues and asked if I would like a bit of perfume 'to mask another odor'. I felt the heat in my face as I wiped my pussy and spritzed on some perfume.

"Does it really matter at this point?" I asked as Julia held out my robe as I was walking to the door.

I slipped on the pumps, held my head high, and opened the door. The kids were just walking into the guest bedroom when I stepped out. Eleven chins hit the floor. Julia was behind me with an evil smirk. I held out my arms and turned a complete 360-degrees to give them the whole view. That snapped them out of it, and they entered the room laughing. Julia followed me down the hall, and, just before entering the room, snaked her hand around me and gave my nipple a quick pinch. I gasped and spun around. She was just smirking as she whispered to me, "You can't fool me. You're loving this." I just stared at her as she closed the door behind her.

Back downstairs. I needed a glass of water. I wasn't drunk, but had a pretty good buzz going. I had made sure to eat plenty of food during the day, so I was holding the alcohol pretty well. I was sober enough to know that I was at my limit, and any more would probably come back to bite me in the ass. Yeah, yeah, it was probably a bit late for that. Still, I didn't want to REALLY fuck things up. A little harmless exhibitionism wouldn't hurt anything. I wish that my libido would have been listening.

I felt a gush in my pussy when the doorbell rang. This was it. My nipples were already diamond hard. 'My nipples probably aren't the only things in this house that are diamond hard.' I thought to myself as I sauntered across the room. Yeah, you can't really help the sexy, ass-swaying saunter when wearing 5-inch Fuck-me pumps.

"Hello. PizzzzzzzzzHOLYFUCK!" Said the nice young man when I opened the door.

"Can I help you?" I asked as if standing in the doorway wearing only a garter belt, stockings, and heels were a completely normal thing to do.

"Uuuuuuuhhh, uuummm, uuuhh, I, I, I have your pizzas." He stuttered as his dinner-plate sized eyes stared at me.

"Oh. Good. Just in time. Thanks. My husband and his friends will be getting back from the sports bar in about 15-minutes. I can set these out and finish getting dressed before they get here." I lied. What did you think I was going to tell him? That I was naked in front of my son and all of his friends?

He just stared. I reached out to take the pizzas. He just stared.

"Hello? Can I get the pizzas, please?"

That seemed to snap him out of it.

"Oh. Yeah. Here you go. It's already been paid for on a credit card, so you don't owe anything." He managed to say.

"Thank you." I replied as I took the boxes from him. "But hold on a second. I need to get you a tip."

I had set this up in the 5-minutes that I had been waiting. I walked over to the coffee table, and bent over to set the boxes down. He got a REALLY good view of my ass. My purse was left on the floor beside the door, so I walked over, turned my back, and bent over to get the money out of it. I rummaged around for a minute as if I was having trouble finding it. My ass and pussy were literally right in his face. I finally got out a twenty, stood up, turned around, and handed it to him. I think it took him a couple of seconds to notice it, because he had trouble taking his eyes off my tits. He finally took the money, thanked me, and backed away. I stayed there in the doorway until he finally had to turn and walk back to his car. Fuck, I was soaked. I could feel the moisture begin dribbling down my thighs.

I picked up the pizza boxes and yelled up the stairs. "Kids! Pizza's here!"

I began setting the pizzas out and getting plates as they trouped down the stairs.

"Uuuh, mom? Aren't you going to get dressed? The bet was just to do the pizza dare, and you are done." Ethan asked.