Betsy slaved outside to clean up her yard while lazy hubby watched ballgames on TV. Until today.
It was a beautiful spring day, the first after a brutally cold, snowy winter, and Betsy couldn’t wait to get outside and start raking. She slipped into a pair of tight red Spandex slacks that ended at the knee, a t-shirt, a pair of warm white socks and sneakers and woke her husband, Jerry.
“Jerry, c’mon, it’s a beautiful day, I want to clean up the yard, you wanna help me?” she asked.
“Later, babes, I’ll be out later,” he groaned, rolling back over.
Betsy was pissed. The curly-haired 25-year-old brunette loved spring but hated it for one reason: Baseball. The season started, and she lost Jerry for the summer. Days like today were custom made for couples to be together, working and cleaning on their homes, but Jerry laid up like a fat lump on the couch when the season was underway, and today looked like more of the same.
She looked down at her long calves that were exposed in her tight Spandex slacks, lean and mean, nicely muscled and bulging above her socks. Her legs were her best feature and today she aimed to put them to good use.
“Jerry, last chance,” she said nicely. “There will be no baseball today, only yard work, and I want you outside – now!”
He rolled back over sleepily and looked at his wife’s stern face.
“You’re kidding me, right?” he growled. “Bets, today’s opening day at Fenway, no way I’m getting outside today.”
“Oh, I think the game is cancelled, on account,” she growled, pulling the covers off her fat, lazy husband.
“On account of what?” he asked angrily.
“On account of SCISSORS!”
She whipped her long legs up to his head and snaked her killer calves around his neck, falling back off the edge of the bed and holding herself up off the floor on her hands, watching, with great delight, her slim but sexily muscular calves knife easily into the sides of his neck. He screamed in pain, his hands cupped around her shins to try pulling his wife’s lower legs from his neck, but she held firmly to him, squeezing harder.
“Jesus Christ, Betsy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted.
“Changing the ball game rules a bit, Jerry,” she growled down at him, snapping her long legs and sending her no-nonsense calves twisting into his sore neck. “Now, you gonna get your fat ass outside and help me or do I have to scissor you HARDER!”
“What the fuck is this scissor bullshit?” he screamed, teeth clenched against the pain.
“No bullshit, you just never KNEW what my legs could DO, did ya, Jer?” she hissed. “Now you KNOW!”
She inched her way up, chewing up his neck with her calves, then her knees, and finally pulling with her hands on the back of his head to imprison it fully in her crushing thighs as she flopped up onto the bed on her side, her upper legs bent around his face and jawbones, squeezing hard. Jerry screamed more loudly now, so Betsy pulled his face tightly to her crotch to smother his cries.
“Shhh, don’t want the neighbors to think I’m scissoring the SHIT out of you do we, Jerry?” she giggled as she looked out the open bedroom window to her friends across the yard doing their own work. “Hey, Bill is helping Linnie in the yard, think she had to scissor HIM to get him to help? She’s got the legs for it that’s for sure! You ready to come outside and pull your weight?”
“Fuck….you…” he growled into the muffled clamp of his wife’s powerful thighs.
Angrily, she let him go only to stand on the bed and then drop, knees first, right into his crotch, crushing his balls and making him bellow in agony, rolling up into a ball on the bed and making it easy for Betsy to flip him to his back and hang his head over the edge. Standing by the bed, she encased his ears and neck in thighs, standing on crossed feet and putting a horrendously hard squeeze on his skull, his head feeling like it were imprisoned in a fleshy vice.
“Betsy, please!” he screamed, eyes staring up into the muscular swell of her ass encased in her red tight pants. “Please!”
“Please, let me help you, Betsy, that’s what you want to say, isn’t it?”
“Please….dammit, Betsy, opening day!”
“YOU ASSHOLE!!!” she screamed, falling forward and putting him in a vicious reverse facescissors, her thighs crushing his head, neck and face. “Opening day is CLOSING day for you, fucker!!!”
She whipped her legs hard against his head, feeling his hands pulling on them and his jawbones bend under the fearsome crush of her killer thighs. She squeezed harder and harder, his hands slipping off her legs as he succumbed to the savage scissoring pressure and he begged for his life.
“Betsy…stop…gonna pass out….” he groaned.
“Damn right you will and I’ll KEEP knocking you out unless you help me, so you’re gonna miss the game one way or the other,” she snarled back over her shoulder. “What’ll it be?”
Twenty minutes later, Jerry was at his wife’s side, rake in hand, neck sore and head throbbing. Betsy smiled as she watched him warily eyeball her muscular calves flexing in her sexy red Spandex pants. She never had trouble getting him to do yard work again.
The End
