“If we don’t stop now, your team will lose,” I say, sliding his twitching cock from my mouth.
“I already scored,” he smirks, earning himself a stinging slap on his muscular ass, even as my lips close around the head of his cock again.
Hands gripping his mud-streaked legs, I inch my lips down his shaft, inhaling the heady scent of sweat and soap, sucking a little harder just to hear the gratifying groan it provokes. My tongue presses against the root as I take it all the way in, then curls around the shaft as I pull back up, mapping out each ridge, each expanse of smooth, taut flesh. Up and down, up and down my lips glide, squeezing just below the head on each upstroke to prolong the delicious intensity, to keep him teetering on the brink of ecstatic release.
It seems I’m not the only one who finds team sports an aphrodisiac.
Do they call soccer “the beautiful game” because it gives men stamina, strong thighs and impeccable ball control? Maybe not, but watching a bunch of virile guys glistening with perspiration, grabbing and tackling each other in an overt display of masculinity certainly brings out my inner groupie.
The guys from my gym play five-a-side soccer in the park every Sunday morning. It’s a pretty shambolic affair; it’s not unusual for us to head straight there from a club or bar, and I’ve been known to step in when one of the team is incapacitated due to partying into the small hours.
But there’s one person who always brings out the team’s competitive side: Evan. It’s rumoured he used to play for a pro youth team, and he’s fast, flashy and supremely confident, running rings around our team whenever he plays for the opposing side.
What irritates my team the most is that Evan actually seems like a cool guy, loyal to his team — he’s resolutely resisted all attempts to lure him over to the ‘dark side’ — modest in inevitable victory and quick to applaud good play. He also happens to be a strapping six-footer with thighs like tree trunks and an imposing physical presence that intimidates his opponent long before he slides in for a tackle.
Just my type, in other words.
“Shit, Evan’s playing today,” bitches my best friend and fuckbuddy Tony, sitting on the muddy ground to lace up his boots. “I knew I should have stayed in bed.”
“Yes, well you should have listened to me,” I reply. It’s my bed we’ve come from, and after a late night, we woke up too late to even have coffee — never mind sex — before rushing over to the park. I’m only kidding though; I’m happy to be here. I love hearing about everyone’s Saturday night adventures, watching the boys work up a sweat, and speculating about which of them, all riled up and high on testosterone from the game, will be the most fun to hang out with afterwards.
The guys grumble good-naturedly through a quick warm-up — the sun is shining but it’s chilly and the pitch is waterlogged — and the match begins.
By half time, we’re trailing miserably. Evan has been doing all the work for his team, racing up and down the pitch and scoring a couple of technically impressive goals. Despite the chill air, he’s sweating and shirtless. I guess a guy that hot doesn’t need clothes.
I see him pick up his empty water bottle and head towards the water fountain by the public restrooms.
“Back in a sec, babe,” I say to Tony.
He glances up, giving me his customary are you fucking kidding me? look as he realizes what I’m intending to do.
“You want to win, right?” I say with a grin, sauntering after Evan.
He’s chugging water as I reach him, rivulets splashing down onto pecs that look like they’re chiseled from marble, making me want to lick them. Evan stops what he’s doing, looks at me. Offers me his water bottle, wordlessly. A current of pure sexual electricity passes between us as he takes my hand and leads me around the back of the low concrete building. There’s no security camera back here, and we’re surrounded by a tall hedge that creates the illusion of privacy.
Evan’s eyes darken with lust as he pushes me against the rough wall, hand sliding up under my top to squeeze my breast. He’s a man of few words and decisive actions, just as he is on the pitch. We kiss.
“You realize if you don’t finish the match, your team are going to lose? You’re their only decent player,” I say, my voice hitching as he pinches my nipple.
“Yeah, I guess,” he concedes; then shrugs eloquently.
“What excuse will you give?”
“Umm… groin strain? Sudden swelling requiring immediate attention?”
I look down at his crotch. There is indeed a growing bulge filling out his shorts.
“Let me take care of that,” I say, sinking to my knees, taking his shorts down with me.
His erection springs up into my face, thick and vigorous. I lick it from base to tip, circle around the head, bounce it on my tongue. It’s a beauty, impressive in length as well as girth, as befits his sturdy physique. My mouth’s watering at the prospect of sucking him, and I don’t deny myself the pleasure for a moment longer.
Enveloping the slick head between my lips, tightening them around it, increasing the pressure as I take it deeper; this is what transports me to a higher level of bliss. Sucking cock is what I dream about, what occupies my masturbatory fantasies and many of my waking thoughts; the sensation of a rigid dick plunging between my lips over and over always has me dripping wet in seconds.
One hand squeezing Evan’s ass to hold myself steady as I swallow his cock to the hilt, I slide the other up my skirt. I’m wearing thigh high woollen socks to fend off the cold weather, but as usual my panties are skimpy, frilly little things, and they’re already soaked as I rub myself through them.
Soon I can’t focus on the throbbing sensation in my pussy anyway, as Evan starts to rock his hips forward, fucking my mouth. My fingers are pressing into the wet groove of my pussy as far as they will go with the fabric forming a flimsy barrier, but all I’m really aware of is the stretch of my lips around Evan’s dick as I relax my throat to take it all the way in. It grows even thicker and harder, his fingers winding in my hair, wiry pubes scratching my face as I suck and suck…
“Let me fuck you,” he gasps, pulling out and lifting me to my feet. For a moment I want to protest the loss of his cock in my mouth, but then he’s pinning me to the wall, yanking my panties aside so hastily they rip off me, and plunging his steel-hard dick into my drenched pussy. He’s strong enough to hold me up with ease as I wrap my legs around his waist and he thrusts up into me.
I’m vaguely aware of the rough wall scoring friction burns against my spine as he pulls up my top, sucks and bites my nipples, all while jackhammering into me. He doesn’t hold back, slamming into me relentlessly, the fierce pressure in and around my cunt stimulating my clit and G-spot until my sugar walls flutter and spasm, and I’m bucking hard, cumming all over his beautiful cock.
He slows his thrusts, making a visible effort to hold back.
“Gonna cum,” he announces, lifting me off him. I slide to my knees again, feeling boneless after my orgasm. I’m so high on endorphins it’s easy to suck Evan’s cock deep again. I let him set the rhythm, my tongue caressing the underside of his shaft, easing the way as he thrusts in. He goes harder, faster. I feel his balls tighten, his shaft twitching and jumping; he starts to pull out but I grip his hips and urge him in deeper, letting him know I want it. Then with a groan of, Oh fuck yeah! he’s cumming in my mouth. I gulp down spurt after spurt, gradually easing his length out of my mouth to give me room to swallow as he fills my throat. He tastes salty and sweet, and the throb and pulse of him between my lips sets off an answering throb that radiates from my cunt through my whole body. Did I ever tell you how much I LOVE sucking cock?
We catch our breath for a moment, laughing as we come back to our senses and remember where we are, and why.
Evan turns and pisses copiously into the bushes, groaning with relief almost as loudly as he did when he came.
“Damn it, I need to pee now!” I say. The public restrooms are grimy; I’m hesitant to go in there in my cute outfit, even if I am slightly muddy and rumpled now.
“Go right ahead,” says Evan, looking pointedly at me, then at the ground, then back at me.
Interesting. I’m not usually into public displays, but it’s always exciting to discover a guy’s secret little kink. Why not? I think, hitching my skirt up and squatting down.
As I let the golden stream flow down into the dirt, I watch Evan’s face. He’s staring at my crotch, biting his lip with concentration, as if committing every second to memory.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he says, grabbing his balls. “If I hadn’t just cum I’d be hard as a fucking rock now. I’m storing that in the wank bank, baby…” and he taps his finger against his temple with a grin.
The thought of Evan stroking his cock while replaying the memory of me peeing in front of him is so arousing I shut my eyes for a second, shivering as a fresh burst of lust pulses through me. The next thing I know, he’s hauling me to my feet and pushing me up against the wall again, then kneeling to lick me dry… and then wet… and then very, very wet.
Some time passes before I’m done cumming, and by then Evan is getting hard again, and we spend a few minutes talking about basketball (about which I know little, and care less) before the bulge in his shorts has subsided to a decent level and he can return to the game.
I let him go first, taking a moment to tidy my hair and straighten my clothes before I head back. I discover our team has pulled ahead, three goals to two, and although Evan has resumed playing, the damage is done. He’s distracted, missing a couple of easy shots at goal, and taking an offside pass that earns him boos from his teammates. He honestly doesn’t look that bothered. He gives me a wink as his team skulks off the pitch, furious at having been let down by their star player.
My guys are jubilant, slapping each other on the back, conveniently glossing over the fact that their nemesis wasn’t even on the pitch for much of the second half. We decide to go for brunch to celebrate the surprise win.
Tony puts his arm around me as we walk back to his car.
“Hey babe, thanks for taking one for the team,” he says with a grin. “Can’t believe you hooked up with that dude just to get us a win. How was he?”
“Oh, you know… appreciative,” I say, fishing in his pocket for some gum, then changing my mind. I’ll savor the flavour of Evan’s cum on my tongue for a little while longer…
I tell Tony almost everything; but I must have completely forgotten to mention that Evan and I have been fucking on the sly since last summer.
It amuses me to let him believe my slutty behavior was solely motivated by team spirit. A big, hard cock is far more powerful motivation…
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More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe take a cold shower first…