I was in the concessions line at Tampa Stadium when it happened. I’d sweetly volunteered to get the next round of beer for my boyfriend, so he could keep watching the half-time show. I knew he enjoyed watching the cheerleaders. I knew I had no reason to feel jealousy, as he would never cheat on me.
I’m sure every stadium concession stand is the same, especially at half time. The huge halls were jam-packed with people, you couldn’t even see your feet, there were so many people. I wore a mini, a full flouncy. Even the lightest breeze would whish up under it and tantalize my pussy. I loved the feeling and am always so hot in the stadium I’ve started dressing for comfort more than appearance. I wore a little tank top that matched and low-heeled sandals. All and all I was comfortable, and didn’t think I looked too bad.
A person is often jostled about in these lines, and more than once someone rubbed against my ass or my tits. I didn’t know if sometimes it was on purpose or not, and I didn’t really care. If the guy turned around and smiled an apology I always sent him a forgiving smile or pretended not to notice.
I’d been in line about ten minutes when I finally noticed the man behind me. I didn’t turn around to actually look at him, but I could feel his proximity against my back. He didn’t seem overly tall or intimidating, so I continued to ignore him and wait for my turn in line. When I felt a hand on my ass, I knew it was his. Should I turn around, I thought? But no, I don’t want a confrontation. Besides a part of me wondered what he planned. Did he think he could just touch me in plain view of all these people?
(…)
Read the rest of Stadium (1,114 words)
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