Julie gathered the balls to bag them up after practice. The 22-year-old Sports Management student was coaching a girls soccer club team at the local YMCA. Most of the girls were decent players, but not good enough to make the squad at the college as freshmen. Their parents sent them to Julie who was a full scholarship player at the local university. She had the skills to turn pro or make the USWNT but wanted to finish her education first. Julie taught them well and several of her players over the last 4 years not only made the Varsity team, but some of them now had scholarship offers of their own.
"Miss Morris, can I have a word?" Julie inwardly cringed as she turned to face Mrs. Lydia Osborne. Lydia was a stereotypical soccer mom from hell. A stay-at-home mom with a very wealthy but distant husband, Lydia poured her attention into her son and daughter. 18 year old Stacey would never set a soccer pitch on fire but was a good dependable wing. Lydia's Lincoln Navigator always gleamed, and her daily uniform of yoga pants and an exercise tank were of the finest quality.
Julie reminded herself that Mr. Osborne was a large contributor to the program and Lydia sat on several of the Y's committees as she painted a smile on her face. "Yes Mrs. Osborne, is there a problem?" Like most coaches of youth sports, Julie felt that dealing with the parents was the only part of the job she didn't like. Most thought their star was the next Mia Hamm and didn't want to hear different.
"Well yes, though it's not about soccer and I don't know how to say it. First, I want you to know that Peter and I know you've done nothing to encourage it, but two days ago I was looking through Stacy's messages and it seems that she and a couple of the other girls have major crushes on you." Julie wasn't surprised to hear it; she had never shied away for telling her players about her personal life if they asked and even brought her girlfriend to practice on occasion to help coach. She was however surprised that Lydia was telling her about her daughter's crush.
Julie felt her cheeks flush a little, "How do you want me to handle it? She asked.
"Please just ignore it." Lydia replied, "we just wanted to make sure you knew." Lydia gave Julia a quick appreciative glance, "At least she has good taste."
The weeks went by and the season went well. Julie was sure not to do anything to encourage any non-soccer thoughts in her player's heads. She knew about some snuggles and a few kisses enjoyed by some of the girls in the back of the bus after travel games, but chose not to make a stink about it. What the girls did on their time was their parents' problem not hers. Instead, Julie found herself noticing Lydia more and more. She came to the Y daily to use the facilities even volunteering to teach a few exercise classes to the older female members. Julie encountered her often in the changing room catching her breath after a class, clothes wet with sweat. Since Stacey had turned 18, Julie assumed that Lydia at least in her late 30's but looked not much older than Julie herself. Tight and toned she her deep auburn hair cut into a stylish pixie; Lydia oozed sexual confidence from her athletic small frame. She didn't know Lydia's sexuality, but Lydia was married to a powerful man so while Julie let her own crush develop, she wouldn't take the issue further. Lydia gained a starring role in her fantasies while Julie masturbated to orgasm almost daily. Julie worried that the crush would start to consume her as she sometimes reminded herself that she needed to concentrate on her own skills and studies.
The season finally ended and one crisp October evening, Julie found herself sitting at one of the bars near campus, when she felt a set of long well-manicured fingernails rub her bare shoulder. Julie put down her beer and turned to see Lydia's bright smile facing her; "Hi, some of the other team moms are here for a girl's night. Would you like to join us?" Julie glanced over and saw Anna's mom Kate and Beth's mom Siobhan. Both of the girls were among the back of the bus contingent. All three of the women were dressed to kill, not overly slutty but certainly more risquΓ© than typical for a married woman out for a drink in a small college town.