Confessions of a Soccer CoachChapter 3 Patti
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Confessions Of A Soccer CoachChapter 4: Linda free porn video
I almost gave up coaching after the Ravens broke up. I knew I had already tempted fate too often, and one more dalliance might turn out to be a disaster. But I had discovered during those three years that I really enjoyed coaching, and I was reluctant to just give that up. I decided to try something different. I called the coaching coordinator of the club I had worked with, and asked him if there were any boys' teams that were looking for assistance. He got back to me a week later and told me about a U-12 team that was moving up to more competitive play, and was looking for help. I gave the coach a call, and twenty minutes later I was hired as the "technical director" of the U-12 Wildcats. It seemed perfect, they were paying me more than the girls' teams had, and I could concentrate on just making a bunch of boys into better soccer players without the distractions of being around young women. The one thing I hadn't planned on was that new cliché of American suburban life - the soccer mom.
I soon found that working with the Wildcats was going to be quite a bit different than what I had been used to. The general level of ability on the team wasn't nearly as high as it had been with the Strikers or the Ravens. They were more like a good recreational team, three or four all-star capable players, and a dozen or so average players filling out the roster. I soon realized that I faced a bigger challenge making this team competitive than I had with either of the girls' teams.
The relationship between the coaches and parents was different also. The girls I had worked with had been old enough to drive to practice, or to catch rides with teammates, so I hardly saw any parents at practice. But the boys all had to rely on their parents for transportation. Most of the moms and dads who brought them didn't stick around for the whole hour-and-a-half, but they were there to pick up their sons when we finished. That gave them a chance to talk to me, so I had to spend a lot more time answering their questions and concerns than I had before. I soon got used to that, and quickly learned the political art of saying what they wanted to hear without actually lying about their kid's abilities or lack thereof.
There were a few parents who stuck around for the entire practice session each day. I soon began to notice one of them in particular, a woman named Linda Kelly. She was tall, very slender, and seemed to almost be too young to have a kid on the team. But I've never been very good about guessing ages, especially in women, and I certainly wasn't going to ask. Her son, Lee, was one of the weaker players on the team, but he always came to practice full of energy and ready to learn. I liked him, even though it was unlikely he would go very far as a soccer player.
Linda was different from the other moms. Instead of sitting around, gossiping or trading recipes or whatever they did while their sons ran around, Linda took advantage of the fact that our practice field was in a county park, with a nice exercise trail, and spent most of the time jogging. If she was doing it to stay in shape, it was working; she was as slender as a fashion model. I asked her about it one day as she caught her breath. "You seem to be working pretty hard. Are you planning on trying out for the team next season," I joked.
After she caught her breath, she explained, "I like to stay in shape. You know, as a single mom, I have to try and stay up with the competition."
I hadn't paid much attention before, but now I noticed that she wasn't wearing a wedding band. I figured that the competition she was referring to must be other single women. Something about the way she looked at me as she said that made me feel like a zebra being eyed by a hungry lioness. But the very idea of dating or even being attracted to a parent of one of my players seemed wrong. After all, they were much older than I was, and even the single ones came with a ready-made family, something that I wasn't interested in. But nonetheless, I liked her, and chatting with her each day as I waited for the last parents to show up became something that I looked forward to.
Linda wasn't necessarily the type of woman who would catch your eye if you saw her in a crowd, but she had a nice smile and a way of looking directly at me when we talked that made me feel like she was someone I would like to know better. Eventually our conversations broadened from just soccer to more personal matters. I hadn't realized just how friendly we had become until one day when she suddenly opened up and told me more about her personal life than I really wanted to know. "Lee almost quit soccer last year," she told me, "but now he loves it again. He says you are the greatest coach in the world."
"He's a great kid," I replied, being careful not to say he was a good player.
"It's important for him to have a man in his life to look up to."
"Lee's dad... ," I started, not sure why I was even asking.
"We divorced when Lee was two, and he moved to Texas. It hasn't been easy being a single mom, but Lee makes it worthwhile."
"Yeah," I stumbled, a little uncomfortable about the conversation, "I can see that. He's a great kid." I realized I was repeating myself, like a tongue-addled teenager. But Linda didn't seem to notice.
"You've been working so hard with these kids, and you've been so good for Lee that I'd like to do something for you. If you're like most bachelors, a nice home-cooked meal probably would be appreciated. Why don't you come over some evening for some of my famous meatloaf."
Um, yeah, that does sound good."
"Great," she smiled. "So, what are you doing this Saturday, after the game?"
"Nothing special."
"Ok, then we'll see you about six if that's not too early."
"Works for me. See you then." That hadn't taken long at all. In just a few seconds, we had gone from a coach-parent relationship to something more personal. I felt a little uneasy about accepting her offer so readily, but decided it really wasn't any different than the new preacher in town accepting a dinner invitation from a member of his flock.
When I showed up that Saturday, I was a little surprised to see how run down her place looked. Linda hadn't been kidding when she said that being a single mom was tough. The house and the yard both looked like they could use a lot of attention from a handyman. I got an uneasy feeling as I walked toward the front door that maybe she saw me in that role, and reminded myself that I was only there to enjoy a nice meal, and get to know Linda and Lee a little better. Even if she was somehow romantically interested in me, I wasn't ready to return the interest. There was still that age thing. Looking back, I now see how ridiculous that sounds. I had been perfectly willing to have sex with girls 7-8 years younger than I was, but somehow dating a woman who was that much older than me was seemed wrong. It must be a guy thing.
Linda met me at the door, apologized for the unkempt appearance of the yard, and offered me a beer, all in a few seconds. She actually seemed a little nervous; not at all like the cool, confident young mother I had gotten to know at practice. She was wearing a dress, all pink and flowery and very feminine, totally different from the exercise clothes I was used to seeming her in. As she finished up her dinner preparations, I noticed that there were only two place settings on the small dining room table. "Where's Lee?" I asked.
"Oh, he's spending the night with a friend," she explained, giving me a smile and a sort of half-wink that would have been hard to misunderstand. I suddenly knew that this was, as I had feared, something more than just a thank-you dinner. Regardless, I decided to just relax and enjoy the evening. By the time we finished eating and I helped her clean up the dishes, we were on our third beers, and growing more relaxed. She had a good sense of humor, and we had laughed a lot. When she invited me to stay a little longer, I readily agreed. I settled onto the overstuffed couch in her living room and she sat next to me. I mean, right next to me, hip to hip, and shoulder to shoulder, even though it was a large sofa. I felt a little uneasy about that, but the three beers were having their effect, and I found it natural to let my arm lie across the back cushions, almost touching her shoulders, like teenagers at the movies on their first date.
There were a few awkward seconds where neither one of us knew what to say. I was looking around the room, which was decorated with a lot of pictures of Lee. "Does Lee's dad stay in touch at all?" I asked, just to break the silence.
She gave me a wry half-smile. "Not exactly. He hasn't seen Lee since he was six. In some ways, I don't think he even thinks of him as his son."
"Huh?"
"Well, I guess I should tell you the whole ugly story, confess all my sins. But you have to promise never to tell Lee."
Her sins? I wondered what was that all about. I wasn't sure I even wanted to know, but unless I got up and ran out of the house, I was about to find out.
"Danny was my boyfriend in high school, and when we graduated I was already three months pregnant. We got married, of course, but Danny hated the idea of being a family man at such a young age. He stuck it out for a couple of years, but then he bolted. He tries to do right and send me some money when he can, but he hasn't been doing that well lately, and I haven't pressed him. It's probably just as well that he left. We were fighting a lot, and I know it wouldn't have been a good environment to raise a kid in."
I've never been good at responding sympathetically when people tell me their woes, so I didn't say anything. I dropped my arm down around her shoulders, and gave her a hug. It seemed like the right thing to do. As I held her against me, I did a quick calculation, and realized that if she had Lee when she was eighteen or nineteen, and he was now 11, Linda and I were almost the same age. I relaxed and let myself began to enjoy the feel of Linda's body against mine. She didn't say anything else as she settled more comfortably into my protective hold.
I've probably made it sound like my sex life in those days involved only brief encounters with underage girls. But that's not the whole story. I was dating, and occasionally having sex with adult women during that period. But when I found myself alone with Linda that evening I had been in a bit of a dry spell, and even though I was just trying to be a nice guy by hugging her, my body began to respond to her touch in a most ungentlemanly way. I looked down, and saw that my erection was painfully obvious. With my arms wrapped around her, there wasn't much I could do to hide it. I hoped she wouldn't notice, but with her face turned in that direction, there wasn't much chance of that. But her reaction surprised me.
Her hand slid down, and she wrapped her fingers around my stiffening rod. There was no question about it being an accident. "Kevin," she whispered, "I really didn't plan on this, but ... I need you. Sometimes I get so lonely and frustrated ... and I know I sound like a slut..."
I put my finger on her lips to stop her. She looked up at me, and we kissed, an almost chase brother-sister type of kiss. It was my way of telling her that I understood, and for her not to feel bad about wanting a man. I guess I was hoping that we would both emerge from that embrace with a realization that what had happened was too much, too fast, but instead she pressed her mouth tighter against mine, and I felt her insistent tongue probing it's way into my mouth. That didn't help the situation in my pants, and she began rubbing her hand gently over my now twitching cock. I finally admitted to myself that I really did want to make love to her, and probably had for the last few weeks. Whatever reservations I had about hitting on a soccer mom had vanished the moment vanished when our first kiss ended.
She slid to her knees on the carpet in front of me and took my shoes and socks off. She took a moment to give my feet a quick massage, making me feel like a Prince with his favorite concubine. She helped me slip off my pants and underwear, then settled down between my legs. My phallus was standing almost straight up, inches from her face. She took it in her hand, examining it more like a doctor than a potential lover. It must have met her approval, because a second later she pulled it toward her face and wrapped her lips around the head. With surprising speed and agility, she soon had my root buried deep in her mouth, and her head began moving up and down rapidly. If I had been eighteen, I probably would have cum after just a few seconds of heading like that, but fortunately my older body was a little slower to respond. I had time to settle back and just enjoy the show. Linda might have been lonely and frustrated, but I was pretty sure that I certainly wasn't the only guy she had been with recently. Her technique was just too good. Like soccer, it takes a lot of practice to hone the skills of good sex.
Just when things were really getting good, and I began to wonder if giving me a blowjob was all that she had in mind as a way of thanking me, she stood up and took my hand. "Come on," she said, leading me to her bedroom. I was a little unnerved by how fast we had gone from a thank you dinner to me following her down the hall, naked from the waist down. This was shaping up as a quick, slam-bam sex act that we both seemed to want and need. When we got to her room we embraced again. I let my hands run down her back, eventually finding her small tight butt. I slowly pulled the back of her dress up, bunching the material in my hands, until I felt the smooth material of her panties. I hooked my thumbs under the waistband and pulled them down, but only far enough for my hands to now cup her bare bottom in my grasp. We continued to kiss as I slipped one finger under her ass cheeks and explored her damp crack from behind. Things were still moving quickly, and I pressed my finger into her aggressively. I usually took more time when getting to know a woman for the first time, but Linda seemed to be a highly sexed woman, and I thought that was the kind of treatment she wanted. She pressed her body tighter against mine, and moaned deeply, confirming my feeling.
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