Clia was almost ready to graduate. It was the day after her 18th birthday. The summer months were coming in the night. They were coming so fast she could almost hear them. Soon she would be able to pursue her horseback riding dreams at university; at the better one. Right now she had a few more weeks before she left and one more week before her classes here were over. She had about 5 hours before the sun would come up.
Clia had spent much of the night talking to her boyfriend Tom. Tom had already moved on to university (he was super smart and had graduated a semester early). After their talk, Clia was left longing him and his body. She had spent the next hour (? Who keeps track of these things?) gently massaging her yearning flesh. She had had 3(!) orgasms thinking about him. She remembered the time; in the stairway, in the elevator, in the basement of his flat, in the spaceship (her memories got more fanciful the longer she masturbated). So now, at eleven after 3 in the morning, she was finally worn out and just drifted off.
In the morning Clia woke and stretched to the musical annoyance of her phone-alarm. She had to hurry to get ready for the soccer match. Her brother and some of his mates were on a sort-of informal, sort-of formal soccer team (it got more serious as the summer advanced) that played every weekend at the field a few blocks from their house.
Clia started to put on her robe, but then remembered that her brother (of course) would not be around this weekend because he was looking at schools. That is why she would be playing instead of him. The soccer club had a rule that any reasonable person could be a substitute for a player given the approval of each. She had agreed back in February, but had more important things on her mind (archeology, riding, archeology on horseback, archeology on horseback with Tom).
She sprinted down the hall to the bathroom in total nudezville. Her well-developed form shimmered and shone in the early morning light, the remaining sweat from last night gave her a very sexy glow. "Mmmm -- I look good today!" She thought as she assessed her hair situation in the full-length bathroom mirror. Her hair looked especially rusty (in a good way) this morning. Her gentle curls snaked down to just above the base of her breasts. They complimented her bronzed skin perfectly. Her breasts were not huge, but she was no longer a girl. Her nipples were somewhat larger than what she thought was normal (from the locker room); this made it very easy for her to masturbate herself with her nipples, but hard for her to concentrate in an active sport (such as soccer).
Clia did like to do some active sports (horse riding), so she did have some good sports bras. Unfortunately [for her, but not for the story] Clia had been under a little bit of a growth spurt and the last correctly-fitting sports bra she had was in the wash (which their parents had taken to the Laundromat while they toured schools with her brother).
Unfortunately, her family had also taken all of the normal-sized towels as well. Clia did as well as she could to wipe her self off with some Kleenex but gave up and got dressed. She had her brother's shirt and her brother's shorts. She didn't want to wear either of them though; they were her brother's! Luckily she still had her old outfit and it (coincidentally) was the same # as her brother's. Clia was unable to find her sports bra so she put on the only bra that kind-of worked. She didn't want to go commando! Her bra was comfortable if she didn't move very much, and it kept her boobs in place (if she didn't move very much).
She did find a nice pair of boxer shorts [Clia is not a fan of panties] and put them on fast before she slipped on her shorts and soccer shirt. At the door she put on her soccer cleats and ran down the street. Running down the street, Clia realized why she had left this pair of boxers on her bed; it was stretched out! She barely started running when she noticed the waistband felt awful loose around her middle. It was too late now for her to do anything though. She ran off toward the field. The sun reflected on the dew in the grass like a million stupid diamonds.
Once she got to the park, she found Randal and Mark taking shots against Peter (the goalie).
"Hi Clia," Randal said half mockingly. "Did you put that on just for me?"
"Shove it!"
Clia, Randal, Mark, Peter and the rest of the team struggled against the Devonshire Werewolves until about 9 thirty am. There was a break because a werewolf had lost his shoe. The Quinsley Panthers were up 2 to 1 nearing the end of the 1st half. Clia had actually got goal that pointed the arrow at Quinsley. She found that although she had not had much practice recently, her moves were very apt. She was able to dribble and dodge the other team much easier than she had thought. The other team seemed to be giving her a lot of space. Even before she had taken her bra off (it was broken), they had just kind of stood back from her when she approached with the ball [something about a young lady running around without a bra in the hot sun can be distracting].
