Let's start off with a little introduction about me and my past. I'm a 38 year old woman that was married but since the little prick couldn't keep it in his pants, I ended up being divorced. That said, he did love having a trophy wife and some real arm candy to show off to his friends and co-workers. Being that he was successful and his inclinations to show me off, it never bothered him for me to go off and spend some of his money on some plastic surgery.
I mean, I was already hot, there's no question about that. I had a nice ass, decent sized tits and always worked out to keep myself in shape. That said, there's nothing wrong with a little augmentation. So what if I wanted fatter lips, a tighter ass, and bigger tits? Yes, I might have turned myself into a bimbo but it's not like all the men don't appreciate it. Sure, the wives at my son's games bitch and snicker but fuck those cunts. Not my fault they couldn't afford to get the work done.
So anyways, there I was, 38 years old and a bonafide bimbo. I had a son with my ex husband. I always called him Mikey ever since he was a little kid. By the time we get to this story, Mikey was 18 and getting ready to go off to college. He always loved playing sports but he wasn't always the best. His dad used to always make pretty big donations to the schools he attended so that used to always get him a fair amount of playing time. My husband wasn't really a dick to his son so he was still going to pay for college but my son kind of got the impression he was better than he actually was and had hopes of making it on a sports scholarship.
During my son's senior year in high school, the school got this new soccer coach. Soccer was my son's primary sport. The coach was a twenty something year old, some guy that got hurt playing pro sports and didn't have a lot of other options. So here's this cocky young stud coming into a high school to be a coach and well, he didn't think much of my son's playing so as the season went on, he got to play less and less each game.
Look, I love my son and I have no delusions as to what his skills are. I kind of see what the coach was getting at but at the same time, it's my son. I love the kid and don't want to see him moping around because he doesn't get to play as much. I had a few talks with the coach, trying to see if maybe my son could get some extra training, get him better and then that way he could get more time on the field. Needless to say, the coach was very helpful. "Have to do what's best for the team." "No one likes to lose." Blah, blah, blah. Ok, I get it but come on. The poor kid is depressed.
About halfway through the season, my son overheard some of the other guys on the team talking about these college scouts that were going to come out to one of the games. He got really excited and couldn't wait to tell me about it. Not sure why but something clicked in the poor kids head that they might be there to watch him and wanted to recruit him. Poor kid. He's just so naive sometimes. Well, he and I talked about it for a while and I was trying to make sure he didn't get his hopes up too high but also didn't want to burst the poor guy's bubble.
This poor kid just wasn't going to let it go and asked me to go talk to his coach one more time about how much time he got on the field. I figured it was worth a shot. I dialed up the school and got the coaches information and went down to see him at his house. Yes, I'm aware schools don't usually do stuff like that but with as much money as my ex put into that place, you look the way I do, and all of the administrators are men, I can pretty much get anything I want, except for my son to get more playing time apparently.
Anyways, I drive up to the coaches house in my Range Rover (yes, alimony rocks when you have a rich husband. Main reason I didn't get remarried) and get out of my car. I take a quick look at my hair and makeup in the vanity mirror (I guess that's why they call them "vanity" mirrors?) and when I'm satisfied everything is in place, I step out of my car. I pull down my tank top trying unsuccessfully to cover my flat and toned tummy. These big fake tits never let my shirts fall down as far as they need to go. I try hiking up my shorts which is also hard to do with this big firm ass of mine and start walking up the path to the coaches front door with my heels clacking the whole way.
I get to the front door and ring the bell, giving myself another quick once over looking at my reflection in the glass door. I hear some footsteps by the front door, see a shadow through the peephole but then there's a long pause before I hear the door start to open. Was he staring at me through the peephole? The door knob turns and then there he is. Oh my! This cocky twenty something year old has a great body. This young thing came to the door only wearing shorts. I mean, I can't blame him, it is his house after all.
I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over his firm pecs, toned arms, chiseled abs then snapped back to reality trying to remember why I was there. "Hi, Chris. I'm Jess, Mikey's mom. I know we've talked about this before but we really need to find a way to get Mikey some more playing time."
He took a bit of a delayed pause for a few seconds. Was he really just checking me out? "Hi, Jess. Look, we've been over this. Mikey having more time on the field just isn't want to team needs right now."
"I get it, Chris. My son isn't the best player on the team but the college recruiters are coming to the next few games and he kind of has the wrong impression."
"Jess, do you want to come in and talk about it? I don't really see how this can change but maybe I can explain it a little better to you."
"Yeah, sure."
I stepped through the threshold and walked into the house. I guess he must have made some pretty good money the few years he did play professionally because his house was much nicer than any other guy his age. He probably had a maid too because no guy his age kept their house this clean, that's for sure. I walked into the living room and took a quick look around. Was it just me or did he have his eyes on my ass the whole time?
"Jess, why don't you have a seat?"
"Sure."
"Look, I know this is important to you but I have to consider all of the other kids and their parents too. Most of all, it's what's best for the team."