Roller Derby Girls

There I was sitting in the stands of a roller derby bout. Who would believe it? Me, Alice Watson, a forty year old, mother of two, professional insurance adjuster sitting in the stands at a roller rink amongst the slobs, perverts and general lowest common denominators of society. I felt terribly out of place but I didn't care. It was where I wanted to be. This was on my bucket list for a long time. I had dressed down for the night, wearing just a pair of skin tight jeans and a plain black tank top. I even had a cold beer and a box of popcorn.

I became aware of a heavy set mouth breather with a two keg belly, wearing a NASCAR tee shirt that was too small, a nasty beard with part of his hot dog still in it, staring at me from a few seats down. I was feeling uncomfortable and my skin was crawling. I tried not to look his way but I could still feel him almost drooling. I understood his curiosity. I looked different. I was a healthy, fit woman with high cheek bones, green eyes, and wavy strawberry blonde hair. Even though I had my hair pinned up, loose curls still framed my face with pale skin and a few light freckles. I had a good figure for forty. I ran on my treadmill at home every morning and did yoga to stay in shape. I'm five foot five tall and one hundred twenty seven pounds. I used to be rail thin when I was younger but two kids left me with some curves. Before kids my boobs were a small B cup. After my second kid, my boobs stayed at a C cup and remained that way even with all the exercise.

When the public address announcer started to introduce the teams, the mouth breather quickly lost interest in me as the roller girls distracted him and everyone else. I stood and cheered too at the hot, young, athletic women who skated out in a menagerie of fishnet stockings, hot pants, miniskirts, elbow and knee pads, funky jerseys and tee shirts. Right away, I felt the heat in my crotch, bringing on the dampness with it. The girls all looked so wild and sexy.

Amid the blaring rock music, the announcer began calling out the teams and their very colourful names. The visiting team was called St. Helen's school for wayward girls and were all dressed in some variation of schoolgirl outfits. Their coach was dressed like a sexy nun. The home team was called the Missfits and they wore a hodge- podge of ill matched outfits. There was Vicky Von Doom, Punky Bruiser, Lady MacDeath, Cheap Trixie, Faith Kill, Foxy Balboa, Hel-on Wheels, and my two favourites, Angel Cakes and Death Demona.

Angel and Demona were contrasts to each other. Both girls were tall, super fit and gorgeous with perfect bodies but Angel was blonde, wore a cropped white hoodie and baby pink hot pants. She had pink elbow and knee pads, white skates and leg warmers and a pink helmet that had "I heart Daddy" on the side. She smiled constantly with perfect teeth and blew kisses to the crowd. Death Demona had black hair, high arched eye brows and wore a black cropped hoodie with red hot pants and black stockings. Her pads were spiked black and red and her skates and helmet were red as well with 'Bitch' written on the side of her helmet. She looked angry all the time and stared her opponents down with a death scowl. The two of them were like the angel and devil that sat on your shoulders whispering advice, conscience and temptation. They had me sliding off of my seat.

The jams began and the carnage ensued. It was campy but fun. Headlocks, elbows, hip checks, spitting, girls taunting one another, speedy jammers, whip moves were all part of the roller derby glory. Angel just finished a scoring jam and was waving and blowing kisses to the cheering crowd when an opponent took a cheep shot at her, pulling her down by her long blonde hair. Death Demona raced over and put the schoolgirl in a head lock and started punching her face in. The referees stepped in and broke it up. Both girls went to the penalty box but the schoolgirl went with a bloody nose.

How did I end up in that campy environment? I was a respected professional, a former PTA chairwoman, university educated after all. A couple of months ago, I wouldn't have been caught dead there. That was before the fall out at home. Sure, I was no saint myself. I had a hidden wild side but I had kept it bottled up for the sake of my family and my marriage. I had always been horny and adventurous as long as I could remember but I wasn't much to look at back in high school. I was a late bloomer. Back then I couldn't give it away. When I went to college, things changed. I changed. Suddenly, boys were interested and I slept with as many of them as I could back then. I liked to experiment too. I really loved sex. That earned me a reputation and no guy would respect me or call me for a second date. I was twenty when I met Bill at school and he was genuine and nice. He called me back and before long we were dating steady. I got pregnant during junior year and we got married shortly after our girl, Emily was born. I still managed to finish school.

Bill and I both got good jobs and settled down in the suburbs with a nice house. We had our second child, Jeffrey a year later. I had some complications at birth and the doctors told me, I couldn't have any more kids so I had my tubes tied. After that it was years of being a perfect wife and mother.

I never lost my desires or my lust. My husband Bill has been a lucky man. I seemed to always be the one to initiate sex. I tried to keep it spicy with role play, lingerie, and dirty talk. I even persuaded him to fuck my ass. I often dropped hints that I was up for a threesome or more some. If I caught him looking at a woman while we were out in public, I'd tease him by saying, "She's hot honey. Do you want me to see if she's game for a three way?" I had always found other women attractive and sexy and I fantasized about sex with them often. I had only ever kissed with another girl while drunk in college. I'll never forget that and have always wanted more. But my husband would have none of that.

Bill liked me to be the good wife. He wanted me to be respectable. He had no desire for us to be a swinging couple. So life went on and my fantasies and desires stayed my own. It wasn't until my fortieth birthday that I finally broke. Our sex life was so slow and so dull. Bill hardly showed any interest in me anymore. I worked out to stay fit and look good but it made no difference to him. Lots of other guys showed their interest though. When Bill was away on a business trip one weekend and the kids were both away, I went out for a drink alone and didn't wear my wedding ring. It didn't take long for a strange man to buy me a drink. We chatted for a while and I lied about my name and marital status. After two drinks we were up in his hotel room and I was riding his fat cock.

The genie was out of the lamp then. I gave into my desires. A younger black guy was eying my legs while I was on the subway. I smiled at him and raised my skirt over my knee. He licked his lips. I got off at his stop and took him into the men's bathroom at the subway station. I sucked him off in a toilet stall in just under five minutes. No names were exchanged. Still, it wasn't enough. I was very discreet because I didn't want my family to suffer and I still loved Bill despite our slow sex life. I didn't want him to get hurt. Our sex life actually improved after that.

Maybe it was my guilty feelings or just my amped up sex drive but I fucked my husband every chance I could. I even got him, reluctantly of course, to make a sex tape with me. We had a digital camcorder for recording our son's football games. When we were alone one night, I had Bill set up the tripod and camcorder. I wore some sexy lingerie and brought out my inner porn star. I acted my slutty best, talking dirty, moaning loudly, sucking, riding, begging for Bill's cock in all my holes. I even finished him off by jerking his cock onto my face. He provided a big messy load and I smiled at the camera as I licked off all his salty sauce. Of course Bill told me that he preferred the "real" me over the woman I was on the tape. Disappointed, I went along with it and said I just acted that way for the film. For his sake, I still played his good little wife.

It was two weeks later when I was alone and was horny as hell. I decided to stay at home and masturbate like I did so often. I wanted to watch myself on film to fuel my experience so I searched our computer to find our sex tape. Bill had it well hidden which was good. We didn't want our son to find it. I had a rough time finding the folder but eventually came across a mysterious folder that looked out of place and was discreetly marked. I figured it had to be the one. When I opened it, there were a number of video clips marked "sex tape". Bingo! I was excited to watch myself in action. I wondered why there were seven files though. Maybe they were copies? I opened one and saw my Bill, naked and hard. But it wasn't our sex tape. No, it was him and another woman in a hotel room. I clicked on another file. It was Bill again in another hotel with a different woman. I opened them all and found my straight laced, goody two shoes husband had been recording his affairs.

I was upset beyond words. I wasn't mad that he fucked other women. I would have been happy if I was participating. Hell, I understood men. That was human nature. It was his holier than thou attitude. He always held me back sexually and shamed me for being too outgoing and adventurous. He liked me to be prim and proper and for years I was, just for him. Meanwhile, he had been a hypocrite the entire time. I didn't know what to do at first so I made copies of all his sorted affairs on a flash drive.

I waited until our seventeen year old son Jeffrey went away to a summer football camp first. Our daughter Emily was almost twenty and was taking summer classes at her university so she was away too. That's when I confronted Bill about his affairs. I wondered if he knew what I had been up to. If he did know, it would have come out then. If he didn't, then I held the advantage over him. I played the hurt victim. Of course he apologized and begged me not to divorce him if only for the sake of the kids. I told him that I needed space and that I couldn't stand the sight of him. I made him call his best friend and ask to move in for a while. I left it to him to tell the kids. I told him that they should hear it from him. Bill packed some bags and left with his tail between his legs.

Sure, I was just as guilty as him but I was always true about my own nature and he always kept me down. He would have to pay for his hypocrisy. A day later, I felt liberated. I was free to be myself. When the pool cleaner came around I sat out on the deck in my swimsuit and bathed myself in sunscreen while he worked. He was distracted for sure. I could see him try to hide his erection. When he was done, I dropped to my knees and blew him. His cock was so much bigger than Bill's. He seemed worried about my husband but I told him to relax and enjoy it. He ended up fucking me right there on the pool deck. I came hard. He waived his cleaning fee for the week too. On the weekend, I went out to a bar and got picked up again. The guy took me out in the alley behind the pub. He bent me over a trash can and hiked my dress up to my waist. I begged him to fuck my ass which he did with his fat prick. I played with my clit while he banged my asshole until we both came.

I felt like I had my revenge but I still felt empty and unfulfilled. There was more that I wanted to accomplish now that I had my freedom. I had long desired to be with another woman. I fantasized about woman all the time. I had my celebrity lesbian crushes which I masturbated to all the time. It had been Angelina Jolie and Olivia Wilde amongst others in the past. I used to watch a reality show about roller derby girls too which really got me hot. It was my guilty pleasure. Bill used to wonder why I liked that trashy show so much. He hated it. He never caught on. Lately, it was Melissa Benoit from Supergirl that I loved. I knew she was half my age but fuck, it was a fantasy anyway. I had no idea how to find a woman though. Men were easy. They were always down to fuck, even a forty year old mother like me. Even young guys were game. Many had MILF fantasies or mother complexes. Women were different animals though.

I was reluctant to put myself out on a dating site. I thought if that got back to my husband, it might hurt me in any potential divorce case. I could always tell if a guy was interested by the way they looked at me, like I was meat or something. I didn't get looks like that from women so I had no idea how to flirt with them. There were no gay bars to go to either in our town. Those disappeared at the turn of the century as gay went mainstream and they didn't need to hide in their own clubs anymore. That was a great thing, of course, but it made it harder for someone like me to search for potential partners.

I finished work early on Friday and was planning on getting dinner out. I was about to hit one of my usual places when I decided to go out of my element for a change. I stopped at a sports bar and thought I would treat myself to some chicken wings. It was a sports bar, so I had no expectations of meeting any women there. Sports bars were usually filled with men and the only females were there with their boyfriends or husbands. That didn't include the waitresses of course. The waitresses were stunning. Pretty girls in skimpy outfits flirting with the customers was a great way to bring in the men and make good tips. The girls in that sports bar were hot. My pussy got as hot as my wings as I stared at the beautiful butts in the tight miniskirts. The girl serving me was as young as my daughter. She was friendly and smiled but she showed no sign of interest in me. If anything, she seemed disappointed to get stuck serving the old broad who she figured wouldn't tip as well as a young guy. I made sure to leave her twenty anyway, even though my bill was just twenty-five bucks. I made a mental note to go back there again sometime soon. I looked around and took in the atmosphere of the place.

That's where I saw the flyer. It was an advertisement for the roller derby. It had the address for the arena and the next bout was scheduled for Saturday night. I took the flyer with me and planned on taking one more thing off of my bucket list, going to see a live roller derby.

So the roller derby bout went on for a almost two hours. The home town Missfits won by a score of 179 to 165. It was good entertainment for ten dollars. I got my fill of sexy young girls with tight bodies in skimpy outfits. It got me wet for sure. I planned on going home and destroying my pussy with all the memories of the evening. I had already pictured the Angel and Devil competing for my soul and my body. I got up to leave when I noticed the roller girls skate over to the crowd to sign autographs. I had my flyer in my purse still so I saw no harm in sticking around a little longer.

I was getting excited that I would get to meet my fantasy girls in person, even if it was just to say hello. First up was Cheap Trixie, the fastest jammer on the team. She was dark haired, skinny and wore big nerdy glasses and was covered in tattoos. Then Vicky Von Doom, a pretty blonde with pig tails and blue eyes signed for me. I got busty blonde, Faith Kill's autograph. Punky Bruiser had blue hair and a huge rack. She signed next. Finally, the stars were next for me. Death Demona gave me an evil sideways grin. I couldn't believe how tall she was. With the skates on, she stood a good six feet tall or more. "Did you enjoy the bout?" she asked. Her big light brown eyes seemed to see right through me.

I felt nervous and shaky. I could smell her musky sweat. She looked like a goddess. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I stammered, "Yah, uhm...I loved it. You girls were amazing. You must be really fit to do this."

"You look pretty fit yourself," the dark hair temptress replied in a stating facts tone. There was a pause as I failed to respond.

She seemed amused by my discomfort and giggled at me as she signed my flyer. She drew a little devil's head in the place of the letter O in her name. I suddenly remembered the scrap. I blurted out, "I really loved it when you came to Angel's defence and beat the shit out that other girl."

Demona stared through me still and grinned her evil smile again making me feel uncomfortable. After an awkward pause, she said, "Glad you enjoyed the show. Come again for the next one." She told me. She didn't ask me. She told me. She then skated off to the locker room.

I was staring at her perfect, round ass and her muscular thighs in her tiny red hot pants and black stockings as she skated away when I was interrupted. "Do you want my autograph too, miss?" came the bubbly sweet voice. I turned and was face to face with Angel Cakes. She was as tall as Demona and had the same athletic body. Angel's smile however was bright like Farah Fawcett's back in the seventies. She had the same light brown eyes as Demona but Angel's seemed to sparkle. At close inspection, I could see body glitter mixed in with all her sweat. I inhaled her aroma and it made my knees weak with lust.

"Oh my God, Angel, yes, of course," I stammered. I felt like an idiot again for acting so nervous but I felt like I was in the presence of a real angel. She could have been a cover model of any magazine with her looks.

She giggled like a twelve year old as she signed my flyer. She was too sweet, like bubble gum. She looked at me again and after a moment, asked, "Hey, didn't I see you yesterday at Hoops Sports Bar?" She tilted her head sideways and smiled as she spoke. It was disarming.

I was flattered that she would recognize me at all. "I was there yesterday. That's where I got this flyer. I had some wings. I don't recall seeing you though. I would have remembered someone like you," I responded. I subconsciously pulled the strands of hair from the side of my face and curled them behind my ear.

"I work behind the bar. I see everything and everyone. I poured your Merlot. Cassie was pretty surprised by your tip too by the way," Angel continued. "So, you're a big roller derby fan are you?" she asked.

"Honestly, this was my first time but I think I'm hooked," I answered.

"So, what is it that you like about it?" she asked point blank.

I struggled to find a answer that was appropriate. "Uhm, ...I came to see you guys, the athletes. You're amazing," I managed to say. It seemed honest enough and still safe.

It made Angel blush and smile at me. She pulled the flyer back from me and started writing something more. As she wrote, she said, "My real name is Taylor, by the way. It's nice to meet you..."

"Alice. Alice Watson. And it's nice to meet you too Angel, I mean Taylor," I replied. She handed my flyer back to me and briefly our hands touched. It felt like an electrical current running through me. The moment seemed to last forever but was in reality only a second.

She pulled away. "Okay Alice. I gotta go hit the showers before these bitches use up all the hot water. I'll see you around," Taylor said as she skated away. After her glorious ass was out of sight I looked down at my flyer and saw that she had written down her phone number under her name. My head was dizzy. She gave me her number. I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. Why would she want me to call her. She was close to half my age. I was pleasantly confused.

I put Taylor's number into my cell. I then had the dilemma of wondering when to call. I had to go home and think about it. That night I was anxious and horny and could hardly wait to masturbate. All I could think about were the hot roller girls. I got out my toys and stripped myself down naked in my bedroom. My hands roamed over my entire body as I imagined it was Taylor feeling me up. I sat on the edge of the bed so that I was positioned in front of the vanity mirror. I could see myself, a hot, horny, green eyed mess. I let my hair down and the strawberry curls fell in front of my face.