It was a peaceful summer day, early enough in the morning to still be dewy, an overcast sky keeping the sweltering heat of the coming day at bay for a brief stint longer. Enjoying the moment of respite, getting your cardio in through the park, the peace was quickly interrupted with an ear splitting screech.
Rather than someone being murdered though, you quickly whipped your head around to see the parking lot still several dozen meters away, a fleet of minivans and SUV's now filling the lot as a swarm of kids weaved between them like an army of ants.
That was about to be the end of it, everyone was alive and well, and you were going to make a beeline away from them to properly enjoy your morning in peace. Nothing against the socially inept little monkies, but making them was the only part you currently cared to deal with. Before you could turn away though, you saw the MILF's deploying from their cars, their shrill cries instilling some sort of erratic order to the swarm as they waded their way through the throng as sexy monuments to their own fertility.
MILF of all flavours, by their very definition, were prime targets for breeding, but soccer moms were cut from their own cloth. While their soccer didn't have to actually be soccer, their soccer could've been tennis or hockey or theatre. The important things though was the fact they still needed to be present be it driver or general chaperone usually meant their charges were young which meant they themselves were still young enough, while still being MILFs. And usually the fact they could even show up and be called a soccer mom meant they were married. They weren't exactly a group known for having easily abandoned allegiances. A challenge was always exciting.
More than their character values though, their hurried and efficient way of dressing made your mouth water. Jeans and yoga pants with tank tops, running shoes and the occasional baseball cap with a ponytail tucked through the back or otherwise sporting short, dictatorial cut.
They were the next stage of evolution from basic bitch, starbucks slurping college students. Perhaps it was the cheerleader effect in play but the predictable uniformity maybe made it harder for one to stand above the rest, but it made just about any woman to fall under it's umbrella that much more desirable. And here was over a dozen of them just roaming free, not a husband in sight, leaving them all free for the taking.
Without even thinking you turned on your heel again and started in on the lot of them. Slowly the swarm was being ushered away from you and the mothers were starting to filter away, but the disorganized mess slowed them down greatly and your long man strides quickly brought you closer and closer.
The only downside to soccer moms banding together to make them more attractive as a whole however was it made it so much harder to pick just one. As you approached it was becoming harder and harder to choose where to look.
Deep in the crowd, yoga mat under her arm and oversized sunglasses on despite the dim weather was a blonde dressed in all black from her fleecey sweater to her leggings not quite reaching her ankles, a pair of beat up and dirty, once white running shoes on her feet. She was shouting something, presumably at her kids, but the horde screamed back louder and it was doubtful anyone heard her.
Towards the edge was a brunette, tight jeans hugging her trim figure and a sports jacket on, coffee in hand as she confidently strode away from her minivan paying no mind to anyone, either her kids were falling in line, no longer her problem or she was on a mission, bee-lining straight to them.
Before you could decide on which MILF to subjugate first however, one of them found you,
"Can I help you?" A sharp irritated voice snapped up at you.
Positioning herself directly in your path, only making it up to your chest was a definitive ginger MILF. curly, shoulder length copper hair, tucked out the back of a generic baseball cap, bright white tank top, grey yoga pants that hugged her legs and clung to her calves, and freckles coating her otherwise ghostly pale face and arms, which were currently crossed as she gave you an irritated look while chewing some gum.
"Uh, yeah I-"
"If you aren't here to drop off your kid," The redhead made a show of leaning around you to look for the non-existent child, clearly nowhere in sight, "You need to go somewhere else." Her loud, shrill voice alerted the other mothers and startled the kids enough to bring slightly more order, which made them ushering towards the soccer field a moderately easier task, sweeping a half dozen mothers away with them.
She didn't even seem to hear you when you tried to speak. Seems you knew where you were starting,
"Yeah like I was saying, I was hoping you could help me actually."
"Me? With what?" The MILF snapped, barely even listening as she raised an eyebrow at you before glancing over her shoulder.
"Well not you specifically,"
Though she was absolutely going to be included now,
"but any of you lovely ladies would work." You smiled at the woman sheepishly, before looking over her head at some of the straggling mother's still gawking at the man their cohort was snapping at.
Before you could expand a syllable further she gave the most dramatic, over the top sigh a person could muster and uncrossed her arms,
"Look, kid, sorry to tell you, well not really, but we're all married." She then stuck her hand into your personal space, waggling her fingers, one of which sporting a simple gold band, "Incase the kids weren't a good enough tip off."
Apparently single mothers didn't exist in her mind. The fact they weren't known for having enough free time and money to show up was neither here nor there though. Also, kid? She was hardly more than a couple years older than you. Having kids must've made her think she was so much more mature.
"Haha, no, actually it's not that. Although I must say..." You paused to look her up and down and while she was a petite squirrely woman, she filled out her yoga pants very nicely. Probably from eating whatever she made her kids.
"Look, buddy! Married! What is it? If you just wanna be a creep I don't have time for you!"
"Right, well I'll get to the point," You cleared your throat, putting on an awkwardly nervous front, "I need a bit of help with a severe case of boner-itis."
Immediately the redheads face twisted in disgust as you proved every single one of her pre-conceived prejudices about you true. From behind her a couple of the other mother's gave a gasp and there was immediately a flurry of activity among them and the redhead started to explode,
"You disgusting fu-freaking pervert!" She expertly caught herself showing her years of training as a MILF, but her anger was on full display, "There are children present! I just told you I was married! Where do you get off speaking to me that way?"
Inside her soon enough.
Contrary to what she was spitting at you however, the children in question were now completely ushered out of the parking lot, along with most of the MILF's, save two that had stayed behind, their spawn now taken by the horde and were now jogging up to flank the redhead on either side.
"What is going on?" A woman with curly, white-gold hair down past her broad shoulders quickly gasped, her brow furrowed as she quickly looked between you.
She was taller than the redhead, both newcomers were, but this blonde was the heaviest of the three, not that her purple tanktop and black yoga pants didn't flatter her and give her a somewhat strained hourglass figure though. Try as she might to look angry, she was definitely the cutest in the puppy dog sense, her round face scrunched up and her cheeks pink from light exercise as she tried to get her bearings on an eavesdropped conversation.
On the other side was another blonde, the tallest, only by a hair over the other, this one was lean from head to toe however, also wearing a baseball cap, dirty blonde hair in a ponytail, with a black tanktop on. Bucking the trend however this one was wearing running shorts, clearly the most athletic of the three to match the generally athletic uniform they all wore.
This time it was your turn to cut the redhead off, her mouth wide open and ready to unleash her no doubt biased take on the situation you quickly explained,
"Yes, sorry, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but I've got a chronic condition, and I suddenly had a really bad flare up."
"Bullshit!" The redhead gasped before looking around to confirm you four were the last people in the parking lot.
