The referee blows the final whistle as the crowd cheers. Some from the stands and others, like me, from blankets dotting the side of soccer pitch on this sunny afternoon.
After all the handshakes and well wishes, people start to file out until it's just the two of us left.
You're busy removing the goal net so I make my way to the opposite end of the pitch. I place my bag and the blanket on the ground and begin removing the net from the other goal post. I hear you jog up behind me.
"Good game", I say, turning around.
"Good?" you ask, eyebrows arched.
"Great even", I concede, smiling at you. I lean in to press a kiss on your lips.
"What is that for?" you ask.
"A good game."
"I'll show you a good," you growl out, as you kiss me back with greater fervor, your tongue tracing the seam of my lips, demanding entrance.
I open my mouth on a groan of pleasure as you cup the nape of my neck with one hand to control the kiss. Your other hand is on my hip, pulling me closer to you. My own hands are busy grasping your ass to bring our bodies closer. I can smell the earth and the musk from your sweaty, shirtless body and I feel my pussy get wet.
"I want you," I demand, as we break our kiss, huffing panting breaths into each other's mouths. "Now!"
I inhale again, noting our simmering desire. I feel it in your exhalation of breath against my cheek, and in the readying of my body.
I lean into another kiss. At first, it is soft and sweet, then deepening to encompass tongues and teeth. A delicious clash of desire, both of us unwilling to concede until the very need for breath forces our mouths apart.
My fingertips trace over your belly and up your torso, mulling over scars and marks. Moving ever upwards to stroke your nipples, teasing and delighting them with the pad of my thumbs. Your hands are busy too, palming both my ass cheeks, squeezing them, as you bring me closer to your groin.
"Spread your legs," you say between nips at my mouth, your teeth tugging on my lower lip, pulling me even closer until all I can smell is us.
I eagerly comply, as you press your groin against my belly. You grind your hips, and I can feel your bulge through the layers of our clothes. Insistent. Demanding.
"Do you want my cock? Are you wet for it?" you demand.
"Yessss," I hiss out, thrusting my hips back at you. "I want it. Now." I too, have my own demands.
You slide your palm down my belly to cup my mound, creating a pocket of space between our bodies. "I want to feel how wet you are," you say roughly, tracing the seam of my shorts before moving to place your hand underneath. I feel your fingers slip beneath my panties, and gently trace my labia. I moan as pleasure fills my body and I'm trembling with anticipation, aching for you to touch my clit.
You part my lips instead, circling the entrance to my cunt.
"Wet," you say, as you continue to stroke, round and round, drawing more wetness from my core. "But I want you wetter for my cock."
You slowly thrust your finger inside my pussy and my internal muscles involuntary clench, squeezing around your finger, as I cry out your name.
"Yes! That's it," you growl in my ear, "Give me your honey."
I'm working my hips, grinding against you, as you add another finger. With one hand, I grasp your wrist to give me leverage against your fingers fucking my pussy.
My other hand is stroking your cock through your shorts, our movements mimicking each other. Fast, then slow, repeating over and over as we kiss.
