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Subject: {ASSM} Let's Go Mets! (m/f, nc, girdle and stockings)
Date: Mon, 27 Aug 2001 22:10:02 -0400
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Let's Go Mets! (m/f, nc, girdle and stockings) by Putnamboy

A work of fiction and intended for mature adults only! Drop me a
line if you have a reaction to share with me.

***********************************************

I have to relate something now that happened a very long time ago--
1969, in fact. I was working as delivery man for a garment district
furrier in New York City, which took me all over the city. There was
a building way downtown on Broadway where I often made drop-offs; it
had a relatively private rooftop with easy access from a back
stairwell. Sometimes I would head up there if it was toward the end
of my day and smoke a joint before returning the truck. 

On this day, however, I wasn't working. I had made my way downtown
with thousands of other New Yorkers to catch the ticker tape parade
for the New York Mets, who had remarkably just won the World Series.
The sidewalks were jammed so I decided to head up to the rooftop
perch I knew about and see what I could see from there.

As luck would have it I managed to walk right past the doorman who
had stepped outside to scan the crowd. No one had seen me in the
elevator, either, as I made my way to the 22nd floor. I found the
back stairwell and walked out onto the roof. 

There was a five-foot wall on the Broadway side of the roof topped
by a tangle of cables and a couple strands of barbed wire. I slid two
wooden crates up to the wall and managed to form an improvised
staircase; standing on the taller crate I wedged a short length of
board under the cables and barbed wire and created a small hole where
I could lean out without snagging my shirt.

The parade was in full progress and I watched car after car slowly
driving down the huge avenue. The noise from the crowd was deafening;
everywhere streamers of tickertape was raining down on Broadway. It
was great.

Suddenly I was shocked out of my reverie when I felt a hand on my
leg! I slid myself out from under the cables and found a woman
standing next to the crates. She gave me a sweet smile and said,
"Think I could take a look?" 

What a knock-out! She was a full-breasted blond in a pink suit with
all the gear: pill-box hat, gloves, matching pumps. Even as I jumped
down from the crate I had a plan forming in my head. This one was
going to be mine! 

"Absolutely," I said, "best view in town!" I helped her up onto the
first crate while she told me she worked in the real estate office
two floors below. She'd heard the commotion from the street but the
office only had windows to the rear of the building; she thought she
would check what the view was like from the roof. "Isn't it great!"
she said, "So exciting!"

Just before she slid her ample top through the gap in the cables, I
spread out some cardboard across the ledge, "so you won't get the
suit dirty." The pink jacket barely covered her substantial tits in a
filmy white blouse. She stuck her head through the gap and took in
the parade, breasts resting on the cardboard.

I jumped off the crate and quickly ran to the rooftop door. There
was a pile of lumber nearby; I grabbed a 2x4 of appropriate length
and jammed it under the knob. No one was going to disturb my little
World Series celebration! 

 From the doorway the view of my soon-to-be-captive blond was
stirring. She was bent over at the waist, pink-skirted butt towards
me, two long and shapely nyloned legs below that in those sexy pink
pumps. Those were the days of girdles and garters and I had no doubt
that's what I would find under the skirt. My dick was already as hard
as the 2x4 I'd pulled out of the lumber pile.

The shoulder bag I was carrying that day that held some transparent
packing tape I was using on a job earlier in the week. I pulled out
the tape and began to climb back onto the crates. The blond turned
her head back over her shoulder towards me--flirtatiously, I thought--
and said, "Nolan Ryan! I just saw Nolan Ryan!"

"That's great," I said as I reached out and pulled out the board
holding up the cables and barbed wire. In a second she was hopelessly
tangled. Grabbing her gloved arms I pulled them back towards me,
snagging them further in the barbed wire. "What the hell do you think
you're doing?" she was yelling at me now. "Get me out of here. Get me
out of here this instant!" I thought she was kind of snippy now,
coming off very Scarsdale, very upper-class. It stimulated me.

I crossed her wrists behind her back and ran a dozen loops of
packing tape around them. She was completely helpless. I stepped back
on the crate and looked down at that fine ass sticking out towards my
groin. I reached down and slid the tight skirt up over her hips. Just
as I had thought: a white open-bottom girdle with four garter tabs
holding up a very sheer pair of taupe stockings, and a white and very
conventional pair of nylon panties under the garters. I grabbed the
panties with both hands and tore them in two.

I moved up behind her and ground my crotch against her now naked
ass. I bent down towards her head and said to her, "I bet you didn't
think some nigger delivery-boy was gonna take a look under your skirt
when you put it on this morning, did you? Bet you didn't think some
big black cock was gonna rape your cunt, either. It's a day full of
surprises for you, white bitch!"

She was screaming by now, of course, hysterical in her rage and her
fear. With the roar of the crowd down below, however, absolutely no
one was going to hear her cries. To be on the safe side, however, I
pulled the remnants of her nylon panties off her, wadded them into a
ball and reached through the wires to stuff them into her mouth. In
the struggle the pink hat slipped off; it fell slowly to the street
below. Then I wrapped a few lengths of the packing tape over the gag
and tightly around her head. It made her shoulder-length hair stick
out sort of funny, but other than that you could have never seen the
fact that she was gagged from more than a few yards away. And on this
day, the nearest witness was twenty-two floors down.

I slid my hands up under her body and felt the soft handfuls of tit
under her blouse, under her bra. My only regret from that day is that
I never got a good look at those tits. I did get a definite
impression with my hands, enough to feel a pair of large nipples
hardening under my onslaught.

I knelt behind her and stuck my face into her crotch. I spread those
nyloned legs out further and managed to get inside of tongue-range of
her clit. I began lapping at her cunt. I kept it up for twenty
minutes, sucking on her clit, running my tongue up and down her cunt
lips, jamming my tongue deep up into her snatch, until she was
sopping wet--completely against her will. I knew she would respond;
probably starved for a little oral attention from her uptight
businessman husband. "When's the last time you had your cunt licked,
bitch?" I asked her. She just threw her head from side to side. "Your
body's responding, ain't it?" I said, "Can't control that cunt!"

Now that she was nicely lubed I stood up behind her. I pulled down
my zipper and my cock popped out. It's a curious thing: my dick
doesn't look that big when I'm just standing there, not thinking
about pussy. But when it gets interested, when it gets a whiff of
some possible snatch, it just grows and grows. One of my girlfriends--
a woman who had been around--told me it was the biggest cock she'd
ever seen. It gets long, at least eight inches, and it gets thick,
over four inches in circumference.

"Hey white bitch! Take a look back here," I said to her; she craned
her neck around to look back over her shoulder as I took one step to
the left. Her eyes widened in terror as she caught sight of my fully-
extended weapon, sticking straight out in front of me and swaying
gently in the fall breeze. "Just wanted you to see the size of the
nigger cock that's gonna be up your pussy." I could hear her moaning
under the gag.

I slipped back behind her thrust-out ass. I positioned myself. I
took my club of a cock in one hand and slid it up and down the
sopping-wet lips of her cunt. "Oh, you're ready for me, bitch, you're
primed for cock. Man, you get wet, you know that? I mean, when you
want a cock--like the way you want mine right now--you are soaking!"

I slid it forward into her cunt. She screamed under the gag and
tried to buck me off her ass, which of course only embedded me
deeper. It was a mature cunt, easy to penetrate but still nice and
tight. Probably unused to a cock my size; most cunts feel virgin-
tight to me as they stretch to accommodate. I began a nice regular
pumping action.

I wish I had a picture of what I saw looking down that day: the
white globes of her ass, the girdle stretched as tight as the skin of
a sausage, the nylons straining against the garters as I forced her
legs even further apart. And finally, the huge shaft of my thick
black cock disappearing into her cunt. In, out, in, out, in, out--
just like a piston. She stood on tiptoe as the force of my fucking
slid her forward and back, forward and back.

Down below the crowd was yelling as hard as ever. If anyone had
looked up, they would have just seen another Mets fan taking in the
whole scene from a rooftop.

I picked up the pace and began to really slam it in there. I could
hear the loud moans continuing under the gag and the snorting from
her nose as the air was forced out by the jackhammer fucking she was
receiving. As I felt the cum boiling up--a really big load, since I
hadn't cum in at least a week--I snaked my hand through the tangle of
wires and found her nose. I pinched it shut, completely cutting off
her oxygen. What a great reaction! She bucked like a rodeo pony
desperate to throw a rider. She pushed back on my cock again and I
met each push with a deep thrust of my own.

Finally, after a final twenty or so violent, fast thrusts, I felt
the cum shoot up my shaft. With one arm around her waist I ground my
cock up her cunt, feeling the cervix with the tip of the shaft. Huge
gobs of hot white sperm filled her pussy to the limit, so much jism
that it seeped out from where the lips of her cunt were stretched
around my cock. It felt like I came for ten minutes.  Obviously, it
didn't last quite that long but it was an unusually full load--must
have been cupload of sperm up that Westchester cunt!

After a few minutes recovery time I fucked her again--this time up
her virgin ass. There were still some small pieces of shit clinging
to my cock as my cock slid out of her. I wiped it off on her nyloned
leg. "You know, white bitch," I told her, "your shit smells the same
as anybody's. But that asshole, I have to say, was a real treat.
Tight like a teenager. You ain't never gonna feel a cock like mine up
there again, though. I predict you're gonna miss it."

When I left her a few minutes later the festivities were winding
down on the street and I slipped out of the building through the
service entrance. Again, no one saw me. A perfect crime. 

The next morning I picked up a copy of the Post to see if there had
been any mention of the attack. Oddly enough, I never saw a newspaper
report of the rape. I don't know how she finally freed herself--I
guess she just never reported it. 

The coolest thing of all, however, and something completely
unexpected, was what I saw on the front page of the paper. There was
a wide-angle shot of lower Broadway, ticker-tape streaming down and
motorcade down the middle of the avenue. On the right side of the
street was my building! And at the top of the frame, just under the
paper's masthead, you could see the roofline with one tiny head and
shoulders sticking out. The hair was bunched up kinda funny and
though I couldn't make out the features, it was definitely a blond.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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