Soccer Mom

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Soccer Mom

Connie could feel her skin starting to prickle under the mid-afternoon sun. The short sleeves on her light summer dress offered no protection to her arms, and, like an idiot, she had forgotten to bring sun screen. She looked down at her thighs and knees. They were already showing a pink glow, and the short dress couldn't be pulled down any more. The blowing of the whistle on the field made her look up just in time to see Brad being admonished by the Referee; it seemed he had been a little over-enthusiastic in a challenge. He looked across at her and grinned, so Connie returned the look with an added thumbs-up; these soccer players were such wimps when it came to tackles. She remembered the games of Football she had watched when she was a Junior; the big, beefy guys and the crunch of padding and helmets. Now THAT was playing hard! Connie had been one of those girls lucky enough to attract a lot of attention from the Jocks, and her time in College had been filled with some very sweaty encounters! She sighed and adjusted her sunglasses. Her husband had been her Prom date, and, though he had the physique of a Football player, it turned out he lacked the stamina AND the inclination for hot, passionate sex. How she longed for the feel of being held by big hands and given a right good fucking. The half-time whistle blew, and Connie decided she would find some shade for a while.

She made her way down from the stand and headed towards the sports pavilion. There was a porch that ran along the front, and she could see it was in the shade of the large trees that bordered the playing field. If there were chairs over there it would be perfect. Her heels made her journey a little awkward as they sank into the lush turf, and she cursed quietly at the damage that may be done to her shoes; they cost too much to be covered in mud! Connie completed the rest of the distance on tip-toe, relieved to see that there were several comfortable-looking chairs ***tered along the length of the porch. The cool of the shade was almost orgasmic, and she sighed contentedly as she settled into the thick cushions of the closest.

The second half of the game began, and Connie watched with disinterest from her comfortable position. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the cushions; she was sure Brad wouldn't mind if she had a little nap? She was at that point of drifting off when an aroma was teased under her nose by the light breeze. Instantly she was eigh*** again, the smell so evocative of her High School years. She lifted her head and sniffed deeply. Liniment.

Connie turned her head to locate its source, and saw that a door was open further along the porch that led to the interior of the pavilion. She figured it must lead to the dressing rooms, so, her senses awake again, she rose and walked down to take a ***k. She paused at the doorway, the scent of her youth washing over her, and the decision to venture inside was made without a great deal of thought.

It was darker in the corridor, and her heels clicked loudly on the tile floor as she made her way further inside the building. The scent was strongest outside a half-open door, so she pushed it fully ajar and stepped into the dim locker room. Once again her mind flew her back twenty years, and she remembered an incident with Chuck Simpson.

Connie had lusted after the star Linebacker for months, yet he had barely even noticed her. Her frustration had caused her to take risks, and one evening after Football practice she had sneaked into the boys locker room. She had found him alone, and his shock at her appearance had quickly dissipated when she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth. She loved sucking cock, and considered herself quite an expert; young Chuck hadn't stood a chance. She blew him so hard that, when she had bent over and presented her pussy for taking, he had completely ravaged her. Back in the present, Connie giggled and winced slightly at the memory. He had pounded her in every position imaginable, so that when she went home that night she could barely walk. Her mother had given her funny looks when she claimed she had period ***s and gone to bed early; it took two weeks for her pussy to feel remotely normal! Chuck had never looked at her again.

She trailed her fingers over the wooden benches as she did a circuit of the locker room, the overpowering smell of rubbing oils making her light-headed. And VERY horny! There was an undeniable heat building in her panties.

Connie leaned against the end rail of the line of benches and sighed. Her mind was filled with the grunts and yelps of her encounter with Chuck, and almost ***ly her hand dropped to press against her mound under her dress. She rested her cheek against the cool metal and groaned quietly as she pressed harder, unable to resist the urge to pull the short dress up and slip her hand inside her now-sodden panties. As her fingers slipped between her pussy lips and found her clit, she shuddered and started to rock on her hand to build herself up quickly. Connie shocked herself with how quickly she came; clinging to the rail she shook on weak knees as the waves flowed through her. After taking a deep breath, she was in the process of lowering her dress back down when large hands gripped her shoulders from behind. A deep, husky voice growled into her ear.

“I thought it was you. Little Connie Bertram, a horny slut even after all this time.”

Connie spun around quickly, only to find she was face to face with her son's soccer coach. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't place it. She sneered at him indignantly.

“I beg your pardon? Do I know you? Who do you think you are talking to me like that? One word in the Principles ear, and you are out of a job Buster!”

The football coach smiled, his eyes taking on a predatory look as he licked his lips in response and stepped even closer.

“I am hurt you don't remember me, Connie. I certainly remember you, and that soft mouth wrapped around my cock in the back of the science lab.”

He was standing so close that his chest pressed against her breasts, and Connie was aware that the steel bar behind her meant she couldn't back away. She looked at his face closely. Who was he? She raised her hands to push against his chest, giving herself a little more room.

“Listen Coach, I have no idea who the hell you are, but just stay the fuck away from me, okay?”

The coach tutted and shook his head. He reached up quickly and pushed his hand under her hair to grip the back of her neck. As his fingers closed and held her, Connie whimpered and felt her knees go to jelly. The coach now had a broad grin on his face.

“I remember LOTS about you Connie. One of the things you confessed to me during our sessions was the weak spot on the back of your neck. I remember testing it out all those years ago, and you turned into a dripping little fuck toy. Is it starting to ring a bell yet?”

Connie was struggling to stay standing. Her whole body had gone into a sexual spasm; her nipples were distended so ***fully she wanted to rip her bra off, and she could feel juices running down the inside of her leg. Only her husband and one other guy knew about her “weak spot”. She gasped in panic.

“Peter? Peter Richards? Please, Peter, can't we just talk like normal people?”

Peter shook his head slowly and gave Connie's neck a little squeeze. The resulting whimper and shudder pleased him greatly.

“You dumped me for one of those brain-dead Jocks, and I promised myself back then you would ask me to fuck you again.”

Connie could feel her body starting to weaken and give itself over to the pleasure. Her hips were trembling, and her pussy ached to be touched again. She stammered slightly as she tried to wriggle from his grasp.

“I'm, I'm married now, so it wouldn't be right! Let's go and find a nice cold drink, I think we both could use it?”

Peter chuckled and squeezed again, this time stepping forward so his obvious erection prodded her hip. The squeeze and the contact made Connie's pussy spasm into orgasm, and she sagged against him as she fought to stay upright. The smell of the room, the feel of his hand, everything was driving her heat to unbearable levels. She needed to be taken, and needed it now. When he dragged her skirt up to expose her panties she clung to him shivering.

“Please, Peter, just do what you want with me, I need you to fuck me!”

She never knew what happened to her panties.

The next thing she knew she was on her knees, scrabbling at the front of his pants to release his cock. It was barely free before she pushed her mouth onto him, moaning and gagging as she sucked deeply. Peter grunted and grinned down at her bobbing head.

“You have always had the sweetest mouth, Connie, I never met anyone after you that could make me so hard.”

She pulled back her head to look up at him, gasping and dribbling from her own haste.

“I seem to remember you liked my pussy just as much, so please, Peter, make me feel every inch of you!”

Peter nodded, and licked his lips in anticipation as Connie stood to turn and brace against one of the benches. She cocked her hips up at him and looked over her shoulder.

“Do me.”

Her heels made her just the right height for him to enter easily, and she was thankful she was so wet as he drove into her hard. He knew just how to make her writhe, and as he re-gripped the back of her neck she started to jerk like a puppet. He didn't relinquish his grip on her even when he put her on her back, and Connie became lost in the sensations and smells as she relived the moments from her past.
Finally, he groaned aloud, and shot a spray of cum across her dress; much to her dismay!
Connie lay on the floor breathing hard as Peter stood over her and tidied himself up. With a final tug on the peak of his cap he smiled down at her.

“It was lovely to meet you again after all this time, Connie, and I hope you'll come to more games!”

With that, he stepped over her twitching legs and left the locker room.

Connie sighed and pulled herself up to stand against the bench rail. She looked down at her cum-spotted dress and grumbled quietly; how the hell was she going to explain that? Feeling slightly battered and bruised, but extremely satisfied, Connie went through to the wash room and made an effort to remove as much of the deposit as possible. It would have to do. As she made her way along the corridor to the porch, the figure of a man blotted out the sunlight coming through the door. She squinted to see who it was, and had no idea until he stepped close and took a grip on the back of her neck. The smiling face of Chuck Simpson loomed over her.

“Peter told me you were here, and how to make you into a pleasant little plaything! Shall we go back in there and get re-acquainted?”

Connie whimpered at the throbbing in her pussy as he marched her back into the locker room.

Jan 22, 2022

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