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The Soccer Mom
The Soccer Mom
As the soccer coach at an all boys school, my days were dominated by masculine roughhousing and contact sports. To be honest, it was easy to focus on being the best teacher and coach that I could be. Women and money were the least of my concerns.
My biggest challenge had motivating one of my players for most of the season. Like many teenage boys, he was distracted by the hormonal urges that often take priority. I could tell he was having difficulty changing from a boy to a man.
Over the past year, I had spoken to this boy’s mother, Ashleigh a few times over the phone about her son, Westin. She was a single businesswoman who had a solid career as a lawyer. Most of our conversations were short and focused on helping to improve her son’s attention span. She was unable to attend her son’s games and practices due to her work. As such, the boy had to get rides home with fellow teammates each afternoon.
After a chilly practice one afternoon, I was arranging some equipment on the field for the next day’s game. A familiar voice came from behind me and said, “Excuse me, Coach?” I turned to see a slender woman 5’9” in her late 30s. She had dark hair pulled back with serious looking glasses and slight smile. Her light blue blouse stood in right contrast to her charcoal gray skirt-suit.
“Yes?”, I said.
“Coach, I am Westin’s mom, Ashleigh. We have talked on the phone before.”
After some short pleasantries about the recent cold spell, the mood changed.
She said, “Coach, I was wondering if there was anything I could do to get my son more interested in soccer. I think it is hard for him because he doesn’t get to play in many games.”
After I spent a few minutes explaining why her son wasn’t playing more, she still seemed unsatisfied.
“Listen”, she said, I am in a difficult position. Because I don’t have as much time as some mothers to spend with their children, I really think Wes needs to get involved in something he can really enjoy. Coach, I will do anything to get him involved in soccer.”
A light rain began to fall. In order to escape the oncoming downpour, I quickly gathered the equipment and headed to storage shed, a few hundred feet away. At the same time, Westin’s mom removed her strapless high heels and dashed into the shed’s open door. By the time we arrived, we were both drenched.
Now both helplessly wet, the mood lightened and a genuine smile appeared on the lips of the shivering woman.
“That was interesting”, I offered.
“Do you have a towel that I could try and dry off with?”
As I rifled through one of the bags looking for a towel, she slid off her now soaking wet suit jacket. Apparently it didn’t do much to keep the rain off as her blouse was clinging to her thin arms, firm stomach and full breasts.
I handed her the only clean towel that I had. She was distracted enough with it that I had a moment to enjoy a long look at her figure. Although she was 15 years my senior, she could have easily been a peer. She was in excellent physical condition. Her legs were very long, muscular and ended at a slender waist.
My thoughts drifted south as the beginning of an erection was beginning to strain against my thin pants. If Ashleigh noticed this change, she didn’t let on.
“Now”, after a few minutes of drying what she could of her hair and clothes, “What were we talking about?”
After an awkward pause, I sort of mumbled something like, “Uh, about playing time?”
“O, yes, playing time. I am sure that there is just something we can do to get my son into more games.”
She removed her glasses, and turned around and set them in her nearby purse, lifting her ass toward me provocatively as she did. Her skirt was wet and contouring her behind nicely.
Untucking her blouse, and turning towards me, she repeated her last words, “There must be something we can do to get my son into more games. In fact, you seem to have something in mind.”
“Me?” I said. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if your pants are any indication, I think we might be able to come to…some sort of an agreement.” As she was speaking, she began to unbutton her blouse, revealing a white lace bra that left little to the imagination. Her nipples seemed to stand out a full inch from the dark ring around them.
“How much is it going to cost?” she said.
Motioning to her swelling breasts, I said, “Let’s start there.”
With one hand she reached back and unhooked her mammary binding. She began to sway as if there were music playing. Sliding her shoulder straps off one by one, two light pink, perfectly round 34C breasts fell softly down, nipples still fully erect. Her breasts bounced slightly as she rhythmically moved her body. My hard on felt like it was going split the seam of my pants as I watched.
“Is this enough?”
“Sorry”, I said. “I need more.”
Sticking her bottom lip to feign a pout, the tough-minded lawyer turned away from me and began to unzip her skirt. As it fell to the floor, her white, wet panties were exposed. Looking over her shoulder at me, she put her thumbs in her waistband and said, “I may need some help with these little old things.”
As I approached her, I noticed one hand had slid around to her front and she was open-palming her clitoris. Her eyes were closed as I kissed her neck and slid her underwear down. Her bare ass was warm, tight, small and pressing against my hands as she began to moan from her self-stimulation.
She breathed to me, “Close your eyes.”
I did as I was told and was surprised as I felt her fingernails slightly scratch my stomach as she untied the string of my pants, pulling them my ankles.
“O, coach” she said as her cold hands and warm mouth began working in tandem on my dick and balls. She began slowly working the tip of my shaft and brushing my sack with her fingers.
As she began to more deeply swallow my dick, I began to moan loudly. I opened my eyes for a moment and saw her lips encircling my rod and her tits bouncing just below. With one hand she was alternating between pumping my shaft and fondling my balls. With three fingers of the other hand, she was finger-fucking herself.
She made rough grunting noises as she continued to give me a blowjob. Her volume increased and between the sloshing of my dick in her mouth, she began to yell, “I need your cock in my cunt! My cunt is aching for you to punish it! Use that huge piece of meat to tear me wide open! Yea, come on!”
I loose control when women talk dirty. Predictably, I began to feel the cum rising from my balls. I exploded in her mouth as she continued to apply serious suction and friction to my staff. Of the few blowjobs that I had experienced, none could compare to this one.
After swallowing my gigantic load, with cum still in her mouth, the older woman said, “You’re not done, are you?” We were both breathing heavily as she guided my face down into her bright red snatch. Her cunt was neatly shaven, her labia were enormous and engorged.
I began to probe her gash with my tongue. The smell was thick and incredible as I lapped my wide across her most sensitive womanly areas.
Again, she began to moan and breathe between her teeth in great pleasure. “Fuuuuck! Fuuuuuuuuuuck! Put it in me! Put it in me!”
Sliding my wet face up her stomach, I began to pinch and suck ferociously on her cold, hard nipples. My dick was coming back to life and was beginning to stretch the skin that I thought would tear just moments before.
With one movement, I pushed the head of my dick and the entire length of the shaft into her hot, aching cunt. Arching her back, she looked down her nose and over her tits at me as I began to fuck her.
“You weren’t done, then” she breathed as she smiled and closed her eyes as I plunged my cock into her surprisingly tight vagina.
In unison, we moaned, “I’m going to come”. We both began the cum tremor and I let fly with a new load of jiz and her juice cascaded over my pouch. Ecstasy.
After we were both able to slow our breathing down, we huddled together and shared some mindless laughs about nothing in particular.
Looking at her watch, the soccer mom got up and dressed in her wet clothes. As she walked out the door, she looked back at me and said, “I’ll look forward to seeing how Westin does at mid-field tomorrow!”
The next day Westin played the entire game as his mother looked on behind dark sunglasses and a thin smile in the stands.
(Let me know if you enjoyed reading about my adventure!)
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