When plans attack.
The characters, situations and actions in this story are merely figments of an unusual imagination. So unusual, in fact, that the author doesn't actually exist.
NC<18 – No characters under the age of 18 are depicted in this story.
This is a copyrighted original work of erotic fiction. All rights reserved.
His ass is mine!! Or MY ass is going to be HIS!! Or something. Whatever.
I was standing in front of the mirrored closet doors in my room on the afternoon of my eighteenth birthday, checking out my seduction costume. I had been planning this for about a year and a half and today was the DAY!! YAY!!
I started "developing" when I was about twelve but never got really big. But I still got a lot of attention from boys. It was really hard getting them to leave me alone for a while until I decided that if I adopted a "tomboy" attitude, they might possibly leave me alone. It settled the boys down, but started to attract some of the girls and caused others to not want to hang around me.
Which caused me some issues. As I got older, I began to have dreams and fantasies, but I couldn't get anyone interested in me. I had pigeonholed myself into a corner. The guys thought I was gay, the gay girls thought I was straight, and the straight girls thought I was gay.
Basically, I was sexually active – VERY sexually active – just without a partner to practice with.
I had tried all the things around the house that most girls try while exploring themselves and their sexuality. Fingers, toothbrush, electric toothbrush, water flosser, massaging shower head, candles, carrots, cucumbers, corn-on-the-cob, hairbrush handles, bottles, anything that occurred to me that I could stuff up myself while masturbating to the fantasy of the quarterback of the football team suddenly realizing how hot I was and asking me out and it going too far.
I occasionally even had the fantasy of it being the quarterback of the opposing team who won a bet and I was delivered up to him to be used as he saw fit – and he did.
You know, just normal high school girl fantasies.
Then I got my driver's license and got forced by my Mom to drive my little brother to his sports practice. I argued, of course, but didn't have a hope of getting out of it. She knew I had no friends and so had nothing going on. Even so, I dragged my feet and complained the whole time he was getting his crap together and getting it in the car.
And I complained all the way to the park.
But I quit complaining when I saw his coach. He was standing there in the normal coaches outfit, whistle on a cord around his neck and I had no idea what it was about him that made me feel like that, but something did!
It could have been the combination of the short haircut and the beard. It could have been his barrel chest – you know, I had read that description before, but didn't really realize what it meant until I saw that man. It could have been the firmness of his legs and ass. Didn't know, didn't care.
From then on, Mom didn't have to ask me to take my brother to practice any more. In fact, there were a few times I had actually argued with her when she wanted to take him because she needed the car. Those days I found a reason to go with him to practice.
Whether I drove or not, I always sat on the bleachers as close as I could get to where the coach was. I would sit and pretend to read my book, all the while watching this fine piece of man walking, stalking, strutting around, occasionally growling or shouting instructions to his team.
The first time I saw him swat one of his players on the ass to send him into the practice game I think I actually jumped off the bleacher bench a little.
Over the next year and a half, I didn't just watch him, I studied him. I listened to him before, during and after practice.
I learned he was coaching 'cuz his son was on the team.
I also learned he was divorced and so he was free for me to go after.
I watched how he interacted with his players. Every pat on the shoulder, ruffle of hair or swat on their asses I could feel on myself – or at least imagined I did.
I decided he was going to be the one to take my virginity. I just had to wait a while.
And that long, long wait was now over.
I was legal as of today and it was GOING to happen.
I had planned this outfit with care, just the right amount of virginal sluttiness – if that makes sense.
White sneakers with white socks folded down, a pair of tight denim short shorts, and a white t-shirt.
A TIGHT, white, low-cut t-shirt stretched across a very sheer bra that was almost unnecessary - I wasn't going to be able to get out of the house without one - was stretched across my firm B-cup titties.
I love my titties. They may not be big, but they are firm and my nipples point to the ceiling when I walk around my room topless. Oh, and my nipples are really big. I know, 'cuz I've compared them with the other girls in the showers at school.
Me? Naturally blond hair, not dyed. Brown eyes. I had been told often enough the last four years or so that I looked like that old actress that was on TV what, a decade ago? I HATED that!! I was ME, not somebody else, and I deliberately kept my hair cut some way other than her "famous" cut.
That is, until I overheard him make the comment about two weeks ago that he had seen hjer in a recent movie and she was still hot and that if she showed up and offered herself, he'd just HAVE to take her up on the offer.
I went out that afternoon and got my hair cut. And he did a double-take when he saw me walk up. YESSSSSS!!
Then I went and searched the show on the internet and did a quick comparison. Her titties might have been just a little bigger that mine, but my nipples were definitely bigger. GO ME!!
I drove my brother to his practice and then drove the car about half-way back to our house before walking back and taking my normal place on the bleachers and settled in to wait. I had already made plans for my brother to spend the night at one of his friends' houses and my mom was working late.
So all I had to do was seduce this guy and get him to drive me back to our house. Then go back and get the car later in time to pick my mom up from work.
I waited through that practice. I tried to be patient, but it was difficult. I found myself rocking back and forth on the bleachers, getting my thighs to rub together and turning me on.
It was finally over and I tried to be patient some more.
I watched over the top of my book as he and his son walked to their car. He had actually started the car and begun to back up and I thought it wasn't going to work. Then he pulled back into the parking space and walked over to the bleachers.
"You know practice is over, right?" His voice that close sent shivers through my body. It was the first time he had ever spoken directly to me.
I looked up, then around, pretending to be surprised that practice was over. "Oh, thanks. I didn't realize that. I was just so lost in my book," I said as I lowered it away from my chest so he could see my tight little tits.
YES!!
I knew it had worked when I saw his eyes widen and heard him suck in his breath.
"Where's your brother?"
"Spending the night with his friend."
"So why are you still here?"
"One of my friends was supposed to swing by and pick me up. But she was supposed to be here about half-way through the practice."
"You need to call her?" he asked.
"I forgot my cell phone at home."
"You can use mine if you want."
