Soccer Mom

“Get into the van.” You yell at your kids. Looking at your watch, you need to get them to the football pitch, in the next 20 minutes. You want to take them over, drop them off, and then head to gym. It is the only time you get to yourself and to work out, which helps with your frustrations.

The weather is warm, so you are wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and some knee-high socks. Almost looking like a player yourself, you sit there with your gym bag next to you.

Finally, your son and your daughter show up, their equipment bags on their shoulders and each already dressed. “Good, I don’t have to wait for them to change.” You think.

“Ok, buckle up and let’s go.” You say as they close their doors.

A “Soccer Mom” with two kids and a mini-van. You sigh and shake your head.

You hate that image. Hot MILF, is what you want to be. But your husband hasn’t been able to spend much time with you because of work. It frustrates you in ways you can’t explain to the kids.

You were happy when you found a league that had multiple teams with multiple age groups. You can make one stop, drop them off, and go. You even enjoy seeing some of the coaches and their assistants. These are fit, athletic men who take care of themselves. You even fantasize about just taking one and wildly fucking him during a game or practice. But that is just the fantasy of a woman who is stressed. Time to focus on reality. Take care of the kids, and then you can take care of yourself. You would prefer sex, but working out at the gym is a decent substitute for now.

As you pull up, your son and daughter both yell to their friends to wait up. They get out, quickly heading away.

“Yay! Some Me time.” You think. The gym you go to is only a few blocks away, which you quickly make. Pulling into the gym’s parking lot, you exhale and mentally relax for a second.

As you grab your bag, you notice in the back seat that your daughter’s bag is still there. “Damn it.”

You drive back to the football pitch and park. Taking her bag, you see all of the groups but don’t see your daughter.

“Can I help you?” asks one of the assistant coaches.

He’s a cute guy, one that you’ve seen during the games. He always has a smile and a wink for you.

“My daughter forgot her bag.” You say holding it up.

“Not a problem. Give me the bag and wait here.” He says as he takes it.

You watch him jogging, his shorts covering his toned butt. “Mmmm, I wonder what he looks like, out of them.” You think.

After a few minutes, he comes back without the bag.

“She said thanks, and to tell you she was sorry. You have good kids. I am surprised your kids are as old as they are, I mean you look younger than you are.” He says with a smile.

He is also looking at your chest and hips. “Were you going to try out for one of the teams?” he jokes.

“I was going to head to the gym to workout, but now I won’t have enough time to drive over, workout, cleanup, and return.” You say in a frustrated tone.

“Have you seen our facilities?” he asks.

“No, where?” you ask, looking around.

He points to a painted cinder block building near the end of the parking lot, and starts walking toward it. “Follow me. We have a facility for the Men’s team. They let the coaches of the youth leagues use it. Most of the coaches and assistants are members or former members of the team.” He explains as he uses a key on the lanyard around his neck, to unlock the door.

When the lights come on, you see a small workout area, a treadmill, an exercise bike, and a multi-station strength training machine. “There is more over here,” he says as he opens another door. You see a massage table, some lockers, and a sign pointing to the showers.

Standing very close to you, he asks, “What type of workout do you want? Strength, cardio, or flexibility?” His warm breath on your bare neck feels strangely erotic.

You turn and look into his eyes. “I want to work up a good sweat.”

“Maybe you need a different kind of workout?” he says in a flirty tone.

Backing up against the massage table, you ask “What do you have in mind?”

“Something that works your cardio and flexibility.” He says, leaning into you.

He smells good. You lean in and kiss him passionately and hard. Wrapping his strong arms around you, you feel his tongue in your mouth. You reach under his shirt. His chest is waxed bare but muscular. Moving your mouth down, hungrily licking and kissing his smooth skin.

His hands are pulling down your shorts, and you feel his fingers rubbing your pussy. “You really want to get a good workout.” He says.

Sucking his nipple, you feel his fingers on your pussy lips. “I want your cock.” You respond almost angrily.

He backs up a bit, and you get on your knees. Pulling down his shorts, you see his cock and balls are as waxed and hairless as his chest. You greedily lick it. You want to get it hard and wet so you can ride it.

Grabbing the base, you pull back his foreskin, and lick the tip. It tastes different than your husband’s. It reminds you of the guys you dated back in school. You grip it and work it up and down, feeling it harden in your hand. Your other hand grabs his firm butt.

“Mmmm, you do that so well.” He says. His cock feels thick in your mouth as you suck it and feel his hands on your head. “Is that the workout you want?” he asks as he breathes harder

It is now hard and slick. “Lie down on the massage table.” You command.

Your pussy is damp with anticipation. “I’m gonna ride him hard.” You think as you stand up and strip off your shorts and panties.

The massage table is a sturdy wooden table with a padded vinyl covering. It is perfect for working muscles. He lies on his back, his hard cock resting on his flat stomach.

After you climb up, and squat over him, you grab it and rub it along your pussy lips.

“Yes.” He says as you insert it. His thickness feels good as it slides into you.

Bouncing up and down, you feel him go in and out as you work your thighs.

Up and down, faster and harder.

You do this a few more times and then you shift.

Dropping to your knees, you take him into you fully.

You ride him back and forth. Each time you go forward, your clit grinds against his bare mound. You haven’t felt anything like that in a while. Your husband’s curly bush always rubs your clit when you ride him cowgirl.

You ride the coach harder. To help your balance, you grab his forearms, and hold them down. This feels so good. Sweat forms on your skin. Your nipples are so hard. A wave of pleasure is building inside of you. It moves through you, and you grip him harder with your hands and knees. You are breathing harder.

You don’t want his cum inside of you, so you hop off. “Cum in my mouth.” You tell him.

He rolls off the table and stands. His cock is slick with your juices.

You got your workout, but you want his cum too, so you stroke it in front of your open mouth. “Lick and suck it, please.” He asks. His balls are tight and he won’t last long.

You lick down his shaft, tasting your pussy and his precum.

Stroking it harder and faster, you feel it pulse and shoot thick streams of cum towards your open mouth. He has a musky flavor that’s not bad as you milk him dry.

Both of you are sweating and breathing hard.

“Damn, I left my gym bag in the car. Can I use the shower, and do you have a towel?” you ask.

“Oh yeah, we have towels.” He says as he pulls one from a cabinet marked Towels.

“Put it in the hamper when you are done.” He says as he hands it to you.

“Are you going to shower too? Or is it strange for you to be sweating in here?”

“I will run on the treadmill as you are in the shower. That way if anyone comes in, I can stop them until you are dressed.”

“Thanks.”

The shower area is a pole in the center with four shower heads. There are wall fixtures too. “That makes sense. Shower as many men as you can at once.” You think.

As you wash the sweat and fluids from your skin, you wonder what it would feel like to have the football team in here with you. Sharing you. Or better yet, you going from hard cock to hard cock.

The hot shower water on your face washes away that fantasy.

After drying off and getting dressed, you throw the wet towel into the hamper.

“The shower is all yours.” You tell the assistant coach. “Thanks for the workout. I like the facility.”

“Maybe you can use it some other time.” He says as he smiles and gets off the treadmill. Looking down at your watch, you realize the practice will soon be over.

“Thanks” you say as you blow him a kiss.

“You’re welcome, ‘Soccer Mom’” he calls back as he heads for the shower.

Yes, maybe you won’t mind being called a “Soccer Mom” after all.