Tammy Makes a Football Bet

Author's Preface: Everyone in this story is eighteen years old or older. The story is entirely fictional. Constructive comments are always welcome. Thanks to deadeye_76 for his editing help.

Tammy is a character in several of my stories, but this story is stand-alone. If you haven't read any of them, Tammy is a good-looking, buxom girl from a small town in Texas. When she got to the University of Texas at Austin, she joined a sorority that had a well-deserved reputation as the slutty sorority.

Tammy Makes a Football Bet - Tammy loses a bet and has to pay the winner

My name is Tammy Tatum, and I'm a sister in the Theta Alpha Beta sorority at UT Austin.

I've always been a big football fan; Everyone raised in small-town Texas was. On days when big games were on TV, our town shut down. My town was so small and far from anywhere that it didn't have decent TV reception. People who could afford it put thirty-foot-tall antennas in their yards. Everyone else gathered at bars, churches, or any big space with an antenna to watch.

When I got to Austin, I was shocked that my sorority sisters never watched football on TV, not even the beloved Longhorns, and I had to go to a sports bar to watch the games with like-minded people.

I mostly followed the pro teams closely but kept up with the Big 12 college teams (the Longhorns were in the Big 12) and was aware of the high school teams within fifty miles of my town.

In my sophomore year, I was invited to join a group of fraternity brothers at Delta Tau Chi and a few sorority sisters to watch football on Saturday and Sunday afternoons and some Monday nights. The fraternity had a room with a 72-inch TV that the football group took over during games. The group wasn't as big on Mondays; we had to study sometimes. I'm not sure why I got invited into the group, but I suspect one of my sisters begged them to invite me, so I'd stop bugging them.

I watched the games with them but kept quiet for the first few games. I was watching the group dynamics as well as the game. The group started with 15 guys, six of my sisters, and me. My sisters, other than me, were there because their boyfriends were there, and they thought they'd have fun together. None of them were from small-town Texas, and they didn't know football from baseball. They had no idea about guys and football either.

After they realized that their guys were not going to pay attention to them no matter how sexy they dressed, and figured out their job was serving beer and snacks to their boyfriends, they stopped coming, and so did three pussy-whipped guys. I was the only girl left with 12 guys. A few others joined for a game or two but weren't die-hard fans.

It was hard for a girl to truly be part of the group. It was a boy's club and none of the guys thought that girls could understand the intricacies of the game, especially a girl with big tits. One Sunday, a fat, drunk guy assumed I was like one of the girls who'd stopped coming. He stumbled up to me and said, "I want a beer."

I loudly said, "Me too. Get me one since you're up."

Everyone heard and laughed. They shouted that they needed a beer too while he was up, and threw empties at him. That was the end of that nonsense.

That's when I began to be one of the guys, but I still needed to prove myself. One Sunday, the guys were passing a football around in front of the frat house, and it bounced near me. A guy I didn't know well asked me to throw the ball to him, laughing and teasing me, expecting me to throw like a girl. I threw that ball in a perfect, tight spiral from about twenty yards away. It hit him square in the chest, hard. All the others laughed at him.

"Sorry, I thought you'd have faster hands," I said before walking in.

Before the game started, the guy asked, "How did you learn to throw like that?"

"My father wanted a boy." I didn't tell him about the rest of my football career.

After that, no one treated me any differently than one of the guys in the group. I knew most of the men there, but not very well. There was one guy I'd never met, named Mitch. I hadn't seen him before because he transferred to UT at the beginning of the semester. Since he was a member of Delta Tau Chi at his old school, he became a member here. He was handsome and friendly, so we sat together, watched the game, and yelled about what the idiot quarterback should have done instead of the last play that lost them five yards. We became good football buddies and got drunk together watching football every weekend. He recognized that I knew something about football.

We had a standing bet on the games we watched together just to make it interesting. We'd flip for who got which team before the game. The loser took the winner out to a casual dinner after the game. At first, I thought that he might be just another guy who wanted to get into my pants.

There was no shortage of them. I'm cute, 5 feet 4 inches tall, with long auburn hair and blue eyes. But what most guys stared at was my boobs. I've got a bigger-than-average-sized breast and an hourglass figure. I wore jeans and an oversized t-shirt to watch the games, but I'd change before dinner to something that showed off my body a little better.

So far, it didn't seem like all Mitch was after was a quick score. We both enjoyed our talks over dinner. It was interesting being just friends with a man. He certainly looked me over; I would have been insulted if he hadn't, but he didn't stare at me constantly like I was a juicy steak.

I looked at him, too. Mitch was tall, muscular, handsome, and had a wicked sense of humor that showed his intelligence. If he had asked me out, I'd have happily accepted. I was surprised and confused that he didn't. He didn't have a girlfriend and wasn't shy.

While eating Mexican food after a game that Mitch lost, he said, "I have an idea. I like this 'loser takes the winner to dinner' bet, but we should also make another bet."

"Want to bet on who can throw a football farther?" Tammy smiled.

"No, I saw how you throw," and laughed. "I bet Jimbo still has a bruise on his chest."

"Okay, what kind of bet?"

Mitch said, "A season-long bet. We would bet on who would win the game we watched, and whoever picked the winner would get one point for the game. At the end of the season, whoever had the most points after the Super Bowl would win the bet and collect."

I said, "I like the concept, but I've got some problems with it. No one will want to bet on a team that's certain to lose. How would we pick out teams?"

"Do you know how 'points' work in sports betting?" He asked.

"I have a vague idea." I didn't want to tell him that I learned sports betting right after I learned to talk.

"Let's say the Cowboys are playing the Dolphins. If the Dolphins are expected to lose by 10 points, there will be a 10-point spread. So, if you bet on the Cowboys, they'd have to beat the Dolphins by more than 10 points for you to win. If the spread creates a tie, it's a push, and no one wins or loses.

For example, the final score is 20-18, giving the Cowboys the win, but if you'd bet on the Dolphins and beat the spread, you'd win. Let's say the spread was 10 points, you'd still win because they won, but by less than 10 points. To win if you bet on the Cowboys, they have to win by at least 10 points, so the score would have to be at least 29 to 18. If the score was 28 to 18, it would be a push."

His mansplaining made me confident that I wanted to do this and beat him badly. There's a side of me I'm not proud of, that comes out when I bet on football or, really, anything.

"So, how would we decide on, what did you call it, the spread?" I asked naïvely.

"Well... the Las Vegas spread is posted online. That would give us a starting point, and we could negotiate from there."

I could get an extra point or two from any guy with a pulse.

"That could work," I said. "What are the stakes on the bet?"

"We could negotiate that too, but it wouldn't be money, that's no fun. Maybe the loser takes the winner out for dinner at a fancy place where we dress up. I bet you look stunning in evening wear. We could renegotiate the stakes each week at dinner after the game, if we wanted to."

"How long would the bet last?"

"We could start next week, and the Super Bowl would be the last game. We'd only bet on the games we watched together. If there's a tie after the Super Bowl, we'll draw cards or throw darts for the winner, your choice. I'll even give you an out. If either of us wants to quit for any reason before the start of the Super Bowl, we can stop the bet by wearing a t-shirt that says, "I chickened out of a football bet I had with Tammy/Mitch", but once the Super Bowl game begins, neither of us can quit without being a welcher."

Where I grew up, being a welcher was worse than being a traitor. You were a pariah. The whole town would shun you. Hell, your family would shun you.

We stood up to leave. Mitch said, "Have we got ourselves a bet?"

"I'll let you know before the first game next week."

When he took me home, he walked me to the door and gave me a quick peck on the lips. "I know you'll take the bet," he said, then left.

The little kiss surprised me. It was just a friendly little peck, but it was a kiss. What the hell did that mean? And how did he know I'd already decided to take the bet?

+++++

Saturday came around, and as expected, I agreed to the bet, and the starting stake was dinner at a nice restaurant with waiters and tablecloths. We would dress to the nines.

We weren't required to change the stakes of the bet as the season progressed, but whoever was ahead would tease the other until they goaded them into raising the stakes. We had fun pushing each other. The beer we drank while watching the games didn't help.

One Sunday, he took me to a UT game on campus and bought me an oversized Longhorns jersey. He won, but it was nice of him to take me. I loved the jersey, and we had a great time. I may have been the loudest fan there, and was hoarse the next day.

At first, the escalation of stakes wasn't major. The first increase was to a nice dinner and a club. Next, it was a week of dinners at different places in town. Then it got into some more embarrassing stuff. We'd have to wear a t-shirt all week that said, "I lost a football bet to Tammy" or "Mitch doesn't know anything about football".

Halfway to the Super Bowl, the stakes started getting higher. His frat brothers knew we had a bet; my sisters knew too. They didn't know the stakes, and we wouldn't tell them.

I was one point ahead, and Mitch suggested that the loser had to serve drinks and snacks in a very sexy outfit at a poker game at either the fraternity house or the sorority house. I neglected to tell him that I'd worked at a nudist resort over the summer. I'd tell him later.

We went through an online catalog together to pick the outfits. It was fun to imagine Mitch in each outfit. I'd guess that his imagination was working hard, too. Each costume picked was more revealing. The ones we decided on did not leave much to the imagination. I didn't mind the exposure, but I hated the idea of losing and then being taunted by the frat guys. On the other hand, it would be much worse for Mitch, he hadn't been almost naked around a bunch of rowdy women, especially ones teasing him and wanting to... get a reaction from him.

Then it got into some things involving public nudity. The first suggestion was to go skinny dipping in the university pool while the other watched. At least ten dives were required. That was vetoed because we might get caught breaking into the school building, and possible jail time was not fun.

We settled on a three-mile nude hike in the woods. We'd leave our clothes at the start of the trail. The winner would call at random times, and when they called, the walker had to immediately send a naked selfie with a mile marker in it. I could do that; I wouldn't mind doing that with him, bet or no bet. I was already planning for a group to congratulate him at the end of his hike, and I was sure he was thinking of something similar.

The final raise in the stakes was that the loser had to have professional boudoir photos taken and present them to the winner.

The stakes were high, and it was close to the end of the season, but I had a substantial lead. I was two points ahead with two games left before the Super Bowl. Once the Super Bowl started, we were committed; neither of us could quit and wear a t-shirt for a week.

I blew it on a college game. I bet on the underdog with a 30-point spread. Scores can be much higher in college games, and I mostly followed pro teams. The score was 42-3.

I was now 1 point ahead with one game to go. I bet on the favorite in the playoffs and gave him a 3-point spread. The score was 20-18. I lost because of the damn spread. I was getting soft. I could have negotiated a 2-point spread. We were now even, and I couldn't quit. Well... I could have, but it would be like welshing on the bet at this point, and I'd never do that. I couldn't shame my whole family for generations to come.

Right now, the bet was that the loser had to have professional boudoir photos taken and present them to the winner.

I didn't know why I accepted the new stakes, but beer was involved, and Mitch had a way of getting me to agree to anything with his sexy voice. My father warned me about drinking and betting. Now I wish I'd listened. I didn't want to do this. It's not that I minded posing for the nude pictures; I had a friend who would take them for me, and I didn't mind that Mitch would have them, but I didn't want them to be posted on the internet. Mitch promised that he would never do that, and they would be for his eyes only. I believed him; it was an honor thing, but I was sure some of his brothers would find them and copy them. My sisters would do that to him.

I didn't like the stakes, but I'd agreed to them. I wouldn't quit and wear a t-shirt for a week. Win or lose, I was playing.

The only thing I could do was figure out how to raise the stakes to something he couldn't resist that didn't involve nude pictures.

That night at dinner, which I was paying for, I asked, "How about we raise the stakes again?"

"I don't know. I'm looking forward to seeing those sexy pictures of you."

"You haven't heard my proposal."

"Do tell."

"If I win, you have to stay in a private house that I can arrange for and do what I tell you for 24 hours. You'll cook me a nice meal and serve it to me. You'll be nude all the time, and you have to do anything I want."

"I guess that means, when I win, you'll be my naked house girl, willing to do anything I want," he said.

I nodded.

"I don't know Tammy, those are pretty high stakes." He paused and scratched his head.

"Too high for you?"

"I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking about how much fun it would be to have you for 24 hours naked and at my service."

I said, "I have all sorts of things in mind for you."

"Okay, I'll take the bet," he said.

"One stipulation. Under no circumstances are we allowed to invite friends," I said.

"Agreed."

We got up to shake, and he hugged me. I must have looked surprised because he said, "I just wanted to feel what I was getting. Very nice."

"Thank you, you felt pretty good too," I responded.

At least nude pictures of me wouldn't show up all over school and be on the internet, but I may have made things worse. Now there was a real possibility that I could lose and end up being his naked house girl for a day. On the other hand, if I won, he'd be my naked houseboy for a day. That didn't sound so bad. I could stand a long massage, someone cooking dinner for me, fetching me drinks, rubbing my feet, and bathing me. He'd have other uses, too.

I had never lost three Sundays in a row, so the odds were good I would win. Yes, I know probability, and it doesn't work that way, but I had to win Super Bowl LVII.

++++++

It was game day. The teams were the Kansas City Chiefs and the Philadelphia Eagles. The Vegas bookies all had them at even; no points.

Mitch found me and said, "The bookies have them at even, but just because I'm a chivalrous guy, whichever team you want, I'll give you one point."

I wanted the point, but it seemed a little patronizing. I had to think about how each team had done all season. I knew all the players, their stats, and recent injuries. I had a program that would figure the odds, and it showed a.05 edge for the Eagles, but all I could think of was me naked serving his every need. My father would have said that I was thinking like a loser. He would have been right, damn it. I was thinking about what I had to lose, not what I had a chance to win.

"You have two minutes to chicken out and wear a t-shirt for a week," Mitch said.

"I'm not doing that."

"The game is about to start," Mitch said.

"Okay, I'll take the Eagles and the point. You wouldn't consider giving me 5 points because of your gallantry."

"I'm not that noble, my lady."

We watched the game, and the score went back and forth. I seemed to be the only one rooting for the Eagles. When the Eagles scored, I stood up and cheered. I thought I was ahead and might win, then the Chief would make a touchdown, and my heart sank. They always made their one-point conversions. If the Chiefs missed a few, then that one-point Mitch gave me might help. At the end of the first quarter, the score was tied at 7-7.

In the second quarter, the Eagles scored two touchdowns and a field goal. So, at half-time, I was feeling confident. The score was 14-24.

I thought the half-time show would never end. The guys cheered for the barely dressed dancers and cheerleaders, but I just wanted it over. How long can it take to drink some Gatorade and get back on the field?

In the third quarter, the Chiefs scored a touchdown, and the Eagles only managed a field goal. 21-20. That one point Mitch gave me would save me if this were the end of the game. We'd end up with a push.

Then came the final quarter. The Eagles scored a touchdown with a two-point conversion. The Chiefs scored two touchdowns, and the score was tied at 35-35, and it looked like it would go into overtime. Overtime would give me a heart attack.

Then, the #%*#@!&v$ referee made a bad holding call against the Eagles. That ref needed either glasses or a white cane. The commentators even said it was a bad call; you could see it on the instant replay. The Chiefs were in easy field goal range with a minute on the clock. I couldn't watch, but by the roar in the room, I knew they'd made it. The final score was 35-38. The Eagles lost, and I lost. I hated losing.

Mitch came up and put his arm around me. "I'm sorry you lost in the last two minutes like that. That's a tough way to lose."

"Damn referee. It was a bad call. You saw it." I suspected Mitch had contacts in the referee's union.

He smiled with his stupid boyish grin, "It was a good call for me."

I looked at him and laughed.

"Tell you what, I'll take you to a nice restaurant as a consolation prize. I'll even wear a suit."

He walked me home, and I changed clothes. I couldn't decide what to wear. Going out was not what I wanted, I wanted to stay in my room and sulk. But Mitch did win and didn't gloat. I wouldn't be a bad loser, so I dressed to impress him. He picked me up at 8:00.

When he saw me in my dress, his eyes roamed over my curves, and I knew he liked what he saw. Of course, he'd be seeing much more of me soon.

Seeing his suit, I was glad I'd dressed up. It looked like it was made for him, and he looked handsome and sexy.

He took me to an elegant restaurant, and the food was wonderful. There was a dance floor, and he asked me to dance. He was graceful, and it felt nice to be in his arms. I started to see him as a damn good-looking man and not just a football friend.

Over dessert, we discussed how the payment of our wager would work. I told him again that under no circumstances were any of his bro's invited.

He said, "I would never invite my friends over. Relax, I won't make you do anything that isn't fun; at least for me." He laughed, and after giving him a sideways glance, I laughed too.

"You don't have to do anything. If you chicken out, you can say 'uncle' anytime and leave. Of course, that would make you a welcher." He tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.

Damn, he knew that I'd never say "uncle". He gave me an out that I would never take.

After we finished dinner, he held out his hand, helped me up, and looked me over. He winked at me and said, "I can't wait."

He took me home, walked me to the door, and said, "I'll call you tomorrow." He gave me a little kiss on the lips, and I felt like I'd missed something, like his lips on mine in a real kiss. Did he think he was kissing his grandmother? I couldn't figure him out, and I'd never known a man I couldn't figure out.

He had taken me out to an expensive restaurant, danced with me, and was beyond charming. He thought I was attractive and liked me. Then he kissed me like that. It would have been unladylike for me to tackle him, but I was horny. Being his house girl for 24 hours might be fun.

+++++

Mitch called the next day and asked, "Are you free Friday night? I have a friend who lives in a house off campus who'll be out of town next weekend."

"Yes, I'm free," I said, trying to stay calm.

"Great, I'll call you Thursday afternoon with the details, but the dress will be extremely casual."

+++++

He texted me on Thursday and told me to be there at 3:00 on Friday afternoon, ready to make him dinner. I texted him about what I'd need for dinner and breakfast. He said that he'd pick everything up. We'd have the house on Friday and Saturday.

This was because I lost a bet. I hated losing, but improbably, I'd been looking forward to this since going out to dinner after the Super Bowl. The days went by slowly.

I was going to make him Lasagna and vegetables for dinner. Cooking for him would be fun, and if he didn't push things too far, I might show him the best time of his life.

+++++

I arrived at a small suburban house rented to UT students. Mitch greeted me at the door and said, "This is for you," and handed me an apron to wear for cooking. I remembered seeing it in a catalog we looked at.

The apron read "I lost a bet." It would be the only clothes I'd wear for a while. After I changed, he pulled out his phone and took a picture.

"If anyone else sees that picture, you will lose your balls. I don't mean figuratively. They'll be hanging on the wall in the basement of Theta Alpha Beta with the others. Am I clear?"

"Very."

I went to close the blinds on the large windows.

He said, "That won't be necessary. Besides, it's light outside; no one can see in." Of course, it would get dark around dinner time, and the room would look like a movie screen.

If I had a bra, the apron would have covered my front, but since I didn't, one of my breasts popped out of it whenever I moved. It covered my front to the length of a short skirt, but only a tiny tie covered anything in the back. As luck would have it, all the things I needed to cook were on the top or bottom shelves in the kitchen. I looked at Mitch's crotch, and he was enjoying the show. That made me feel somewhat better.

I prepped everything and put it in the oven.

"Tammy? Could you get me a beer? I looked in the fridge and didn't see any.

"He keeps them in the garage."

The garage wasn't attached to the house; it was about ten yards behind it. All the houses in the neighborhood were rented to college students who would hang out in their backyards on pleasant days. I had no choice but to walk out there in my apron.

It's not like I hadn't worked at a nudist resort, so I didn't mind being naked around people. But it was different with a bunch of fully dressed, drunk guys and their girlfriends watching and whistling at me. I felt like a waitress at a strip club in a parking lot. He probably told everyone that I would be the evening's entertainment.

I held my head up and went out to get him his damn beer. I grabbed the first one I saw, walked back, went inside, and handed him his beer.

"I'm so sorry, I should have told you, I wanted a Dos Equis," he said. "We keep those on the bottom shelf. The coldest ones are in the back, and I enjoy cold ones."

I went back outside. The garage opened towards the street, of course, and when I opened the fridge door, I saw the Dos Equis on the bottom shelf at the very back. It wasn't easy to get to. I had to get on my knees with my bottom pointed at the street to get at it. Between my boobs flopping out and no back to the apron, I made quite an impression on the crowd that had gathered. When I got up, there were cheers. I took a bow and pointed to my "I lost a bet" apron, and everyone clapped.

I went back inside, opened the bottle, and brought his beer to him. "I'd prefer it in a glass."

I brought him a glass and poured his beer for him.

"I could use a coaster, too." I went and got a coaster for him.

"Are you done in the kitchen for a while?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Good," he said. "You can take off your apron, sit with me, and talk."

"Yes, sir." I removed my apron, sat in a low chair, and crossed my legs.

About the time I'd gotten settled, he said, "I hate to ask, but I could use another beer."

"Dos Equis?" I asked.

"Yes, I think that would hit the spot."

The chair was low, and it was difficult to get up without spreading my legs in a less-than-ladylike manner, but that didn't bother him. I reached for my apron, and he said, "I don't think you need that unless you're working in the kitchen, do you?"

"No, sir."

I walked out to the garage, and the crowd had grown. As soon as I left the back door, there were hoots and hollers. I walked to the garage, got on my knees, and got two beers for him.

I walked back to much applause, poured his beer, and asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Not yet, you can have a seat." I sat down. "Oh, I forgot to tell you I was expecting a guest for dinner."

I said, "Remember I told you none of your bro's were invited."

"Don't worry, I'm a man of my word. This isn't one of my bro's. I have a date."

He was pushing it by bringing a date.

"You may know her. Her name is Pam and she's in some sorority. Speaking of my date, I need to get ready. How long does the lasagna need to cook?"

"Another 15 minutes."

"That will be plenty of time for you to get me ready for my date." That had me confused.

"I need a shower, and I need your help."

In the bathroom, he said, "Could you take off my clothes, please?"

"Yes, sir."

I took them off and was in no hurry. Maybe it's just me, but I like to strip the clothes off a man, especially one I've never seen naked. I was impressed with his body, and I was hoping for some fun with it, but when he was naked, he turned on the shower and got in.

"Well, someone needs to wash me. Get in," he said.

I got in the shower with him, grabbed the soap, and rubbed it on him. He said, "I'd prefer it if you didn't use your hands."

"Then how?"

"Just lather yourself up and rub against me."

I looked at his well-toned body and thought that it might be fun. I knew he would enjoy it. I soaped up the front of my body and then rubbed it against his back. It wasn't very efficient, but it was fun and felt good. It took a couple of tries to get his back and legs washed. He turned around, and I used the same process to clean his front. Of course, I had to wash his face, so he knelt, and I rubbed my soapy boobs all over his face. He stood up again, and I knelt and rubbed them over his nice, hard shaft and balls. I did that longer than necessary, and he needed his hand on the wall to keep himself from falling.

He was just about to come when I heard the oven timer. I said, "I've got to go get the lasagna out of the oven." I grabbed a towel, dried off, and ran into the kitchen. I hated to leave him in that state, but I didn't want dinner to burn.

The doorbell rang.

"Shall I get that?" I asked.

"No. I'll get it." He had thrown on some clothes, and as he passed me, said, "Your serving outfit is in the bedroom. Go put it on, and then you can get us some drinks."

As I was changing, I heard him say to his date, "I have a surprise for you. I'm having someone cook for us."

My serving outfit did not cover any more than my apron. It was based on a French maid's outfit, but the "skirt" was about eight inches long and barely covered my front. It had "I lost a bet" printed on it. The top tied around my neck and held my boobs in place, if I didn't move too fast. He included some fish-net thigh-high stockings and high heels.

When I was ready, I returned to the living room. Pam's jaw dropped when she saw me dressed as I was. I'm sure she didn't want me naked in front of her date. I'd seen her body, and I looked much better. If Mitch wanted to embarrass me, he'd have to do better than Pam. I was surprised he'd even give Pam a second look, much less invite her for dinner.

"Tammy's cooking for us?" Pam asked, shocked.

"Why, do you know her?"

"We've met." Pam looked like she wanted to kill me.

"Miss Pam, would you like something to drink?"

"Sure, I'd like a beer."

"What brand, ma'am?" I asked.

"Do you have Corona?"

"I believe so."

I went out the back door, and since it was night, I thought I wouldn't be noticed as much. But of course, I was wrong. He had motion-sensing security lights, and as soon as I left the house, I was lit by spotlights.

At least the Corona was on the top shelf.

I brought in two that I knew were cold, poured them into glasses, and served them with coasters.

"Let me know when you're ready for dinner, sir," I said.

"You may sit over on the couch," he said.

"Yes, sir."

I sat on the couch with my legs crossed, facing Pam. My "serving" outfit didn't cover much.

Pam asked, "How long will she be here after she's washed the dishes?"

"Tammy lost a football bet, so she's my house girl until 3:00 tomorrow afternoon. She's not bothering you, is she?"

Pam had planned to get Mitch into bed, but that wasn't happening. She couldn't handle that with me there. Mitch owed me for that. It baffled me how Mitch got involved with that bitch. He was being his normal self, but he had a naked cook/waitress. That did not impress Pam.

She was pissed off not only that someone else was there, but that it was me and I was practically naked. She wasn't subtle about it and left right after dinner.

When she headed to the door, I couldn't resist saying in a cheery voice, "Goodnight, Ms. Pam."

Mitch said, "That's a relief. I didn't think I'd ever get rid of Pam, but that probably did it."

"How did you get involved with Pam?" I asked.

"When I first got to campus, I got drunk at a party, and she kissed me. We kept kissing for a while; I was drunk and didn't know anyone. I made an excuse to leave, but somehow, that gave her the impression that we were dating."

"How do you know Pam?" he asked.

"She's my sorority sister."

"Really? How did she get into Theta Alpha Beta? She's so boring."

"That was before my time," I said, "You didn't know she and I had problems with each other?"

"No, if I'd known, I would never have put you in that spot. I wanted to embarrass her, so she'd leave me alone. I expected her to leave as soon as she saw you."

He paused. "Tammy, your wager is paid off, and you've been an incredibly good sport about it. You don't have to stay until tomorrow."

"That would make me a welcher, sir. I'd never welch on a bet. My father would kill me. Can I get you another beer, sir?"

"Sure, and get one for yourself. Get yourself some food, too. The Lasagna was delicious."

"Thank you, sir."

"Your father wouldn't mind you being here naked, waiting on me?"

"Oh, he'd mind, and he'd probably kill me and you both, but he'd rather I was here naked with you than to welch on a football bet. That would shame the family for generations."

I repeated my trip through the backyard and grabbed two beers. The crowd had dissipated, and I was a little disappointed not to have the attention.

I got myself some Lasagna, poured our beers, and sat down.

"Your family must take betting on football seriously."

"Everyone living in a small town in Texas takes football very seriously."

"I've been betting on football since my father taught me to play. Until my breasts grew too big, I was a better player than most of the guys in my town. I was the quarterback of the Peewee Football League team through 7th grade. After puberty, if I played in a football game, all the guys got erections. I thought that was my advantage. They got bigger muscles and were faster, and I got big tits that slowed them down." They both laughed.

"I'll have to admit, my breast did cut down my passing accuracy. I'd still pass at targets with anyone in your fraternity and go home with my pockets full of cash, but my parents decided I couldn't play anymore."

"I'm amazed by how well you've handled everything I've put you through."

"When you lose a bet, you pay up. Don't think this is over. I'm going to get you back and you'll be... Well, I shouldn't tell you my plan, should I?"

He laughed. "How do you know you'll win?"

"I rarely lose. If it hadn't been for that blind referee... I would have won." For a moment there was anger in my voice. "We should plan on having this bet next year. We'll have time to think of good stakes."

I said, "You look tired, sir. That date with Pam must have been stressful for you. You should go to bed and relax to get her off your mind."

"That's a good idea."

"Shall I lay out your bed clothes, sir?"

"No need, I sleep in the nude. What about you?"

"Well, for these 24 hours, all I have is the clothes you tell me to wear or not to wear, so I guess that's up to you. What would you like me to wear?"

"I think nothing would be nice."

"Shall we change for bed, sir? All my domestic chores have worn me out."

I led him into the bedroom and turned the bed down for him. He started to take off his clothes, but changed his mind.

"Would you mind taking off my clothes, Tammy? You did that so well for my shower."

"Yes, sir."

He sat on the bed as I took off his shoes and socks. I rubbed his feet, and he lay back on the bed. Moving closer to him, I spread my legs around his, unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled it over his head. I moved down on his legs, unbuckled his belt, and loosened his jeans.

Pulling on his jeans, I said, "Lift your hips for me, sir."

When he did, his six-pack abs hardened, and I momentarily lost my concentration. After I stripped his pants off, he was hard as a flagpole. I guess watching me run around naked aroused him. Imagine that.

"You may take your clothes off now and get into bed."

"Would you like to undress me, sir?" He pulled three ties, and my outfit disappeared.

I put my foot on the bed so that he could remove my shoes and fishnet stockings, but he said, "Maybe later."

"Thank you, sir."

I crawled onto the bed beside him and whispered, "Is there anything I can do to help you sleep, sir? I lost the bet, and I'll do anything for you."

"A deep massage would be nice, Tammy."

He got out a bottle of oil, handed it to me, and lay on his stomach. I sat on his bottom, poured oil into my hands, and rubbed it into his upper back, neck, and delightfully strong shoulders. I scooted down his body a bit and ran my tongue from the top of his cheeks, up his spine to his hairline, before spreading the oil on the rest of his back. Damn, he had a nice back. I rubbed oil on my boobs and slid them up and down his torso.

He was breathing hard and quietly moaning. I massaged the oil into his bottom, making sure to get in between his cheeks. He seemed to like my oily finger on his little puckered hole, so I spent some extra time there relaxing him. I finished oiling his legs and then lay down on him to run my boobs over his cheeks and down his legs.

"Are you doing okay, Sir?"

He moaned and nodded his head.

"It's time to turn over." He turned over and his cock was harder than it was in the shower. "Oh my, Sir. You may need a happy ending."

I started with his feet and legs, thick with muscles. I moved up to his taint, rubbing the oil in with my thumbs. Then I took care of all the areas around his throbbing member and worked on his six-pack from the bottom of his ribcage down to his pubic bone.

I couldn't reach his chest, so I changed my position so that my legs straddled his hips, and my pussy rubbed along his manhood. His chest was incredible. It had enough hair to make him look manly, but not so much that he looked like a bear. I could see the striations in his muscles from his breastbone to his shoulders. I covered his chest with oil and pinched and pulled on his slippery nipples. Each time I rubbed hard on his chest; my pussy would slide along his cock. I had to be careful not to let him come before I was ready.

"Well, Sir, do you feel sleepy now? Oh, I forgot about your happy ending. Do you still want that?"

He nodded vigorously.

I slid down his body trying to keep my pussy in contact with him until it rubbed on his knee. I sucked his hard cock deep into my mouth and slowly let it pop out.

"Sir? Didn't you say I could say 'uncle' at any time and leave? This would be a terrible time to say 'uncle,' wouldn't it?" I smiled and looked into his eyes and saw his panic. "Don't worry, sir, I always pay when I lose a bet." The panicked look disappeared.

Oil was all over my hands, so I cleaned them off by rubbing the oil onto his balls. He was already on the edge. I'd planned to tease him a little before I let him come, but I didn't think he could take much more stimulation. I kissed gently on the sides of his cock with just a little tongue and sucked on the tip. His muscles were tense, and he was going to blow any second, so I just slowly lowered my lips onto his cock until they touched his base. I repeated that five more times, and he burst into my throat. He sure had a lot of built-up cum; it was hard to keep up with him. It made me feel good that I had excited him that much.

"Are you relaxed enough to sleep, sir?"

"No, that massage energized me."

Before I knew it, he pulled me higher on the bed, lay me on my back, and got between my legs with his face poised above my pussy.

He said, "Is this okay?" Not waiting for my response, I gasped in bursts as his tongue separated my pussy lips.

"The bet... was 'anything for a day' so... whatever makes you... happy... you're welcome to do."

God, I needed this. Since I'd been here, I'd been Mitch's nude cook, the nude girl to fetch his beers, and exposed myself to most of the neighborhood. I'd washed his body with my tits and almost got him off with a tit job. I served him and his date dinner, in an outfit that made me feel even more naked, then gave him a thorough full-body massage with a happy ending. I had fun with it; He made it fun, but I needed to come now.

He sucked each of my outer lips into his mouth and I couldn't stop moaning. He knew what he was doing, and it felt wonderful. I knew he wanted to go slow and please me, but tonight I didn't need much build-up. If he breathed hard on my clit I was going to come. How could I tell him that without him thinking I was a slut?

He spread my outer lips with his thumbs exposing my pink pussy. I bent my knees and spread my legs further for him. He licked my inner lips from the bottom of my slit, stopping just before he touched my clit. I lifted my hip towards his face. The bastard knew what I wanted but was going to make me wait. I was glad that the oven timer interrupted his titty fuck now.

My juices were flowing out of me, and he lapped them up before his tongue entered me. A tiny, nonsensical utterance came from my mouth as a bolt of pleasure shot through me. I pushed my hips against his face.

I began thinking that getting the full treatment from him might not be so bad. He was very good at this. It was a sexy evening, and I'd wanted him for a long time. It dawned on me that this may have been the longest I'd been sexually attracted to a man before we had sex. It was frustrating that we hadn't had a night like this until now.

I squirmed on the bed. He moved his thumbs higher, next to my clit and pulled them up and apart stretching the skin around my clit. I unconsciously whispered, "Yes," as the pleasure struck me. My hand went to my breasts. I rolled, stretched, and pinched my sensitive nipples. This was too much, it felt so good.

He loosened the stretch with his thumbs, then pulled them apart again quickly. His broad flat tongue licked across my clit and all the ultra-sensitive skin around it.

The first time, I yelled, "Oh, god yes," in surprise and relief. The second time, he pushed me over the top so hard, I didn't know what hit me, but I needed more. I grabbed my knees and pulled them back until my pussy pointed up. When the last lick came, I screamed as my climax peaked and the pleasure became too intense to bear. I squeezed his head between my knees, then pulled him away.

Mitch crawled up next to me looking pleased with himself, and said, "Was that okay?"

I could barely speak, unable to catch my breath. In a few seconds, I tried to say, "I'm sure... you'll get better... soon". I tried to kiss him, but I was still out of breath.

This was a man who knew how to treat his servants well.

I turned toward him and, with labored breath, said, "I want you inside me, but I need to catch my breath."

He stroked my damp hair and kissed me. It was a good kiss, and I thought I might not need to catch my breath after all. I reached down and held his cock. It was a nice one and just as hard as before. I stroked it slowly. He held my breast, kissed my nipple, and teased it with his tongue. My moaning made me think that I could breathe fine now.

I kissed Mitch to show him I was ready. The way he kissed me back, I didn't think this would be a quickie, at least I hoped it wouldn't.

I pushed him over on his back, kneeling with a leg on each side of his body, and we continued kissing. I was sitting on his tummy, and I could feel his hard cock touching me. It was my turn to tease him a little.

I turned my attention to kissing his neck and upper chest. As I moved lower, so did my hips. His cock was wedged between my cheeks, and I'd give it a squeeze when the mood struck me. I moved lower so I could pinch his nipples and lower still to bend down to kiss them. His cock spread my pussy lips apart, and I could slide on it until his head showed itself in front of me. I slid back and forth a few times, bending so it rubbed against my clit.

I moved forward to free his cock. I changed the position of my hips and slid down, impaling myself. It was a perfect fit. I sat up and felt him slide deeper. I moved slowly on him as I played with my tits and nipples while looking at his face.

I said, "This is the first time you've been inside me, sir. I like it." He held my hips and pushed into me with long strokes.

He said, "You're heavenly," and after a few more strokes, he pulled me down to his chest, kissed me, then rolled us over without losing any contact. I loved it when a strong man did that.

He held himself up with his arms and continued with long, slow strokes.

Getting on his knees, he pulled me up against his crotch, holding my thighs. His strokes were harder and faster. There was a look of lust on his face.

He turned me over and put me on my hands and knees and entered me again. He was hammering into me hard, now. It had been a while since I'd been so thoroughly fucked, and I'd forgotten the feelings it brought out in me. I was pushing back at him as hard as he was thrusting into me. He grabbed my breasts and pulled me up against his chest. One powerful arm held me against him as his hand roamed over my tits, face and neck. His hand found its way to my clit, and he rubbed it as he hammered into me. Within a minute, I came.

He let my body down, but I couldn't support my weight with my front arms and dropped to my chest, my arms in front of me. Mitch found a pillow and put it under me before pushing me down on it. I was lying flat on my front with just my hips elevated. He got on the bed behind me and entered me again. I couldn't believe how wet I was and how much I wanted him to keep fucking me.

I heard him breathing harder and then grunting with every stroke until I felt his cock pulse as he came into me. He lowered himself onto my back, then rolled off so I could breathe. I moved over and kissed him hard.

Before long, we were asleep.

+++++

I woke up before Mitch, and he'd thrown the covers off. His condition was the same as most men before they wake up. This was an opportunity to be an alarm clock that woke him gently. His cock was hard when I grasped it gently and saw his eyes moving under their lids. I thought he must be having a good dream, and it was about to get better. I gently put my mouth over his cock so that he wouldn't wake up right away. His eyes were moving faster, and I could hear him moaning my name, "Oh, yes, Tammy." Good, he was dreaming about me. My lips pressed harder against his cock as I moved deeper on him.

There's a fine line between a man waking up while a woman's doing this and having him wake up as his dream ended. I wanted him to wake up just as he came in his dream.

He was moaning almost constantly and mumbling about something. He was close but I didn't know how close, until my mouth was full of his cum. His eyes sprang open, and he saw me kneeling over him with cum leaking out of the corners of my mouth.

"Good morning, sir. Did you have a good night's sleep?"

"Tammy? Did you just..."

"Yes, sir. I was trying to anticipate your needs. Is that okay?"

"Better than okay. No one's ever..."

"I'm glad you liked it. Did you bring a toothbrush? I forgot mine."

"Sure, it's in the bathroom. There's a new one for you in there."

I left to brush my teeth, and when I got out, Mitch took my place.

"I don't know about you, sir, but I got sweaty last night. Would you like to take a shower together?"

"Tammy, you have the best ideas."

This time in the shower, I was allowed to use my hands on him, and he used his on me. We used up all the hot water, but boy, were we clean and refreshed.

"Would you like me to cook breakfast for you, sir?"

"I'd love that."

I put on my apron and went to the kitchen with Mitch behind me. I spent a long time bent over, peering into the refrigerator. I could feel Mitch's eyes staring at me.

We heard a knock on the door. Mitch told me to run into the bedroom and swore he hadn't arranged this. When I saw the panicked expression on his face, I knew he was telling the truth.

I had an idea.

Mitch opened the door a crack. "I'm Steve from down the street. Is Fred home?"

"No, he's out of town until Monday."

"Oh, shoot. He's got my lawn mower."

I walked over wearing my "I lost a bet" apron and opened the door all the way and one of my boobs popped out. The looks on Mitch's and Steve's faces were priceless.

"I saw a lawn mower in the garage yesterday. I'm sure Fred wouldn't mind if you took it. Would you like some breakfast?"

Both Mitch and Steve were tongue-tied.

Finally, Steve said, "I... I could eat."

"Great, come on in and I'll get you a plate. Where are my manners? My name's Tammy."

"Lovely... to meet you, Tammy."

He came in and I walked to the kitchen giving Steve a good look at my ass.

"Is it too early for a beer, Steve?" I asked.

"No, it's never too early for beer."

"How about you, Mitch?"

"I'd love one, thank you."

"It's out in the garage; Come out with me Steve, and I'll show you the lawn mower."

Steve was flabbergasted as he followed me outside to the garage. I bent over for three Dos Equis off the bottom shelf and showed him the lawn mower. He followed me back inside.

I finished cooking breakfast, told them it was ready, and they sat at the table. After bringing the food out, I removed my apron and joined them.

Steve asked, "Your apron says that you lost a bet. What did you bet on?"

"Football. The bet was spread out over the whole season, but it came down to the Super Bowl. I can't believe that referee. If he hadn't been blind, I would have won, and you'd be sitting here with Mitch naked. Damn field goal."

Steve said, "Boy, am I glad that ref was blind."

"Thank you," I said sweetly.

We ate breakfast and talked for half an hour until Mitch said, "Steve, can I help you with that lawn mower?"

"No, I've got it. I've taken up enough of your time."

We escorted him to the door, and he left.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You should have seen your face when I pulled open the door, not to mention his face. And when I sat down at the table, I thought his eyes would fall out. He's going to live off this story forever."

"You're a hell of a woman, Tammy."

"You just figured that out?"

"We've got two hours left on my 24-hour stay. How may I serve you?" I asked.

"I think a nap is in order," he said.

"If you go to sleep on me, I'm going to be pissed."

"I think you might be able to keep me awake."

He dragged her back to the bedroom.

+++++

At 3:00, we were lying in bed breathing hard, and I said, "Well, I guess my bet is paid in full."

"It is, and you were an unbelievably good sport about this. I would have been really nervous about being naked like you were."

"I was nervous, but a bet is a bet." I again neglected to tell him I'd worked all summer at a nudist resort. A girl needs some secrets, and that secret might come in handy in a bet some time to hustle him.

"How long is your friend going to be gone?"

"Probably until Sunday night."

"There's plenty of Lasagna left. I could warm some up for us."

"That would be wonderful."

I asked, "Would you stay naked with me? I'd like a little eye candy too."

"Umm, sure. I'd love to stay naked with you, although I can't guarantee my excitement won't grow."

"I'd be insulted if it didn't."

After dinner, we went to the couch and talked some more. I liked Mitch and thought he might be a good friend. I wasn't going to get serious about anyone at my age, but it's always good to make new friends, especially ones as fun as Mitch.

"Mitch, there is something that's been bothering me."

"What?"

"Why didn't you ask me out, like on a date? You had to know I liked you."

"It may have been stupid of me, but I liked having you as just a friend. Dating complicates things. I was afraid that it would change our relationship, and we wouldn't be able to have the same kind of fun together. I'm not looking for a girlfriend right now, and you were a good football buddy. If I'd asked you out and we ended up in bed together, I was afraid I'd lose you as a friend. Romantic connections can screw things up. I've never really had a girl as just a friend before, and I liked it."

I said, "I'm glad I asked, and I wish I'd asked earlier. It surprised me how much fun it was to have a guy as a football friend, but there were nights I wanted our post-football dinners to end differently. You kissed me a couple of times like I was your grandmother and then left. That confused me.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend and don't want to date anyone seriously. I'm way too young to get serious with anyone, but I enjoy doing things adults do together, like this weekend. I have men friends I get together with because we're friends, and the sex between us is good. I've never pretended that we were exclusive, and I have no intention of getting serious with any of them.

"So, I'm thinking we could be both kinds of friends, assuming you can handle me having other men friends."

We decided to sleep on it.

We had leftovers for dinner, and that night in bed was as much fun as the night before, without the pretense of paying off a debt. We had wonderful sex, and I told him a few things he could do for me; he did them very well. He gave me a massage and didn't miss a single spot with his big, strong hands, and I got the happy ending that night.

+++++

We had a great weekend. It was the best bet I'd ever lost, and I'm sure the neighbors enjoyed it too.

To his credit, Mitch never told anyone stories about how things went. Everyone knew there had been a bet, but only the two of us knew what it was. He kept it between us. I would have heard, and I didn't tell my sisters anything either. Come to think of it, there was a bit of evidence out there. The picture of me in the apron, but it didn't really show anything.

I did tell some of my sisters what a wonderful guy Mitch was, but he wasn't looking for a committed relationship. He got some calls that led to dates.

As far as I know, Pam never told anyone about that evening; it would be too embarrassing for her. Even if she did, everyone knew she was a liar with a grudge against me. She never bothered Mitch again, although she probably blames me for their breakup.

I went out with Mitch several times that semester, and I made him give me a ride to the resort where I worked at the end of the semester. I didn't tell him what kind of resort it was. Surprises are fun. When we arrived, I stole his keys and made him come in to get them. I locked them in my lock box and hid the key. I gave them back the next day, but he stayed for another three days.

We continued watching and betting on football the next season and going out to dinner afterwards.

One of his brothers bet me he could throw a football better than I could. Now I have a reserved chair in the TV room at Delta Tau Chi.

Author's postscript: I hope you liked this story. I enjoy writing Tammy stories. Please scroll down a few lines and vote and/or comment. You don't need to be a member to vote/comment.