The Soccer Mom
042624.3a
The hottest MILF at soccer field
All characters are over 20. This is non-consensual fiction.
A Stroker Ace production
This story is called The Soccer Mom. It's a good, proper title. Some stories practically write themselves. Others need help. This story is written the way it happened to Ryan.
But remember this general rule; the people that know the facts, can't write. Then again; when it comes to MILF's, does anyone really care about facts?
The Soccer Mom
From a little Piper Cub, flying lazily at 500ft you can see the sub-division laid out beneath you. Curving roads and cul-de-sac, all with well-to-do single family homes, most with swimming pools. In the middle is a park of green grass with a baseball diamond, tennis courts and a soccer field. It's soccer season and a game is in progress. The side lines are lined with proud parents watching the game.
Soccer season is Feb thru Oct and playoffs go into Dec. She is there at all of her daughter, Stacy's games. Everyone in the neighborhood knows of the soccer mom. Men call her hot, or a hot MILF. Women are not so kind. The soccer mom is beautiful beyond belief. She is Stacy's Mom, Mrs. Eleanor Brooks. They all agree, she is the hottest MILF in the neighborhood.
She attends all of her daughter's games from Feb to Oct. The boys arrive at the field while girls are still playing. They take the field after the girl's games.
Soccer Mom stands at the sideline showing off her incredible figure, wafer-thin body, plump round-tight ass and beautiful pale skin. When she calls out to urge her team on, her smile lights up her beautiful face and her voice is like a summer rain. Spools of her long brunette hair spilled around her face, falling to her breasts. Her emerald green eyes sparkled with life and promise.
At first, when Ryan was caught staring at her, he tried to cover it by nodding hello, as he took the field. Several games later they had exchanged names and were making small talk about their games. She introduced herself as Mrs. Brooks.
"Call me Eleanor. I'm Stacy's mom."
"Hi. I'm Ryan. Stacy was in some of my classes."
By August they were friends and she was following his games as well. Her voice was sweet as a songbird. She was always in fashion, her nails painted to perfection. She was by far, the hottest soccer mom on the field.
Coach said it best, "Women like her get compliments all the time. She also gets catcalls and slut-shamed."
"Damn that soccer mom's booty looks good." The whole team was trying not to stare at her butt while hiding their boners.
A couple of games later, Ryan was helping Mrs. Brooks load an ice chest cooler into her SUV after a match. She was alone with him for a few minutes.
"Sweetie, thanks that cooler is so heavy. At least for me it is, but not for a big strong boy like you. You know, I think you are cute. I feel very attracted to you... You make me feel... 'll do anything. Never mind! Anyway you will make some lucky girl very happy. Listen to me ramble on. Please don't tell anyone." Eleanor said, ashamed of saying her thoughts out loud.
*
Several games later, at the hotel where Ryan worked part-time, he arranged to reserve a double bed room for the weekend. Using a room for a night was a little job perk that the hotel allowed during the slow summer months. Ryan was their part-time IT person. Meaning he re-started the router once in a while and helped guests connect to the hotel Wi-Fi.
"You have on too many clothes. Take your pants off for me, Mrs. Brooks."
"Oh sweetie, if you are trying to seduce a woman, don't call her 'Mrs.' It makes her feel old. Call me, Eleanor," she said, taking his bold comment as a joke.
"Okay. Take your pants off, Eleanor."
"Ryan, that's not proper thing to ask a grown woman. This is not a high school prom date. You are my daughter's friend. Ryan, I've known you for months. You asked me to meet you privately at this hotel and I agreed. I hope it wasn't a mistake!"
There is no mistake, Eleanor. Unless you make it one. I have noticed your Precious Moments figurine collection and your award winning stamp collection. You could call it an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it. It's an obsession."
His words rang true to her. Mrs. Eleanor Brooks stood, wide eyed and blushing, shocked to be in such a conversation with her daughter's friend.
"I am giving you a better, more rewarding obsession. Now take those pants off, Eleanor."
She had flirted with compulsion all her life.
In her head, from years ago, the voice of her therapist reverberated, '
Obsessive neurosis is a concept to define a disorder associated with psychological tensions, characterized by the presence of obsessive thoughts that trigger compulsive behaviors or that can lead to actions.'
"I'm sorry... No."
But she didn't turn and walk out, Ryan noted. If anything, she looked conflicted.
Eleanor found herself unable to leave, not wanting to offend his dominant voice. She looked into Ryan's eyes, mesmerized by his youthful confidence. She felt warmth, a need to please, flowing into her.
Ryan looked at Mrs. Brooks, seeing Eleanor for the first time in a new light, a sexual light, where he was claiming this incredible woman. Something about her response, about her body language, assured him that he could actually pull it off. His confidence swelled, much like his growing erection.
She was a shapely MILF with an hourglass figure, with nice boobs, not the biggest but high and firm. Her pale skin and brunette hair, and was supremely cut to frame her face. She was shy yet fun when you got to know her, with a deep connection with people. But still she could be rude when she wanted.
Today she wore Lime green leggings that hid her panty lines, over Chuck Taylor high-tops. She had on a white scoop neck, pull-over top, under a tan, light comfy sweater that matched perfectly with her long brunette hair. A gold pendant sparkled between her full breasts from a necklace about her neck.
Eleanor stood looking intently at him, her pretty face clouded in confusion. Why was young Ryan acting this way? Where did this come from?
All the books that Ryan read, and there were many, had insisted on the same thing.
'You must be bold, brave, and courageous and find a way to shock a reluctant mind into action.'
'Any sign of doubt, of indecision and your effort is doomed to failure. The obsessive personality seeks decisive strength.'
Ryan knew that this was a critical point. To win her over he had to be decisive and bold. One wrong move could ruin his chances.
"We could begin by me humiliating you. Or you could agree that despite my being polite, and nice, I am exactly the owner-master your obsession needs, and you will watch and listen intently and respectfully when I direct you."
Ryan walked towards her, and cupped her breast to get her attention, which made her whimper in alarm from the disrespect of this young man.
He nodded gravely, and then said, ''I am feeding your need for obsession, for structure, for compulsive actions. I am not afraid to discipline you, as long as you learn. Do I have your acceptance of me and respect for me, as your master-owner?"
Her face turned beet red.
"Your craving depends on your next move."
Feeling startled and overwhelmed, she leaned back against the wall for support, not sure of what to do under the competing pressures. Ryan was her daughter's age! Yet her pussy had warmed and was now throbbing for attention. In her addiction, her mind lost all focus, overwhelmed by emotional desire for structure and the comfort of rules and the ever present sexual arousal. In the end, Mommy wanted some sugar and decided to let her kink play out.
Shocked and ashamed, she knew she must be looking stupid and she felt stupid, like a bimbo. She was trying her hardest not to moan or say something stupid.
She closed her eyes in shame as her obsession won out. In a little girl's voice, she said, "Y-yes, Ryan. Owner-master."
Like an addict seeking the pleasures of another high, she sought the comfort of rules and the pleasure of satisfying a dominant. She would call him Master or Owner or whatever he wished, to get her dopamine fueled high.
"Now, take off those pants."
Shamefully, she glanced down and slowly wiggled her green leggings from her hips, exposing her panties, the color of a ripe peach.
"Down to your knees!"
The lime green stretchy yoga pants stretched inside out and clung tightly to her ample thighs, even as the waistband was pulled to her knees, she still couldn't raise her eyes.
"Now the..." His voice threatened to break from his excitement but he caught it in time. "panties."
A heartbeat of hesitation, her eyes raised and locked on him, while her hands slid under the waistband and her peach panties peeled down. Her crotch was shaved, leaving a small, thin landing strip above a plump vulva.
Ryan's eyes followed her panties down. They clung for a moment to that damp mystical slit and then slid down, to rest atop her leggings. A streak of creamy white discharge clearly visible, but her eyes were still on Ryan.
The sight of this gorgeous woman's groomed pussy and seeing her panties, soiled with her arousal, gave Ryan a rush! Beneath the thin patch of hair, he could see her slit between her puffy vulva.
She was embarrassed to feel her pussy naked with her clothes about her knees. She could guess what this meant to a young man like Ryan; having her, a grown woman, motionless, obedient, stripped and displayed.
He hadn't told her what he expected to happen. She knew it would be decadent and that thought kept her addicted. Her compulsion was stronger than her pride.
Eleanor tried to figure out why there was so much wetness mingled with her terror, and why her terror seemed so sweet.
Suddenly she looked around, taking in the open curtains at the window. Her hands went to cover her sex.
"What's that noise in the hallway? Is that voices?" She kept looking back and around as if looking for someone in the empty room.
"Eleanor! It's okay. Listen to me. It's just you and me. A little kink, that's all. Just relax and breathe. Loosen your shoulders, shake your arms out; it will get your circulation going. It will be okay. Here, I will close the curtains."
"You are breathing better. Normal. Now stand up straight, for me. Just like that. And don't move."
Ryan went to the picture window and pulled the heavy curtains shut.
Now, Eleanor, listen carefully. I want you to take your shirt off. Take off your sweater and pull your shirt over your head."
Nice, simple commands. It was reassuring to her. As a woman, she was expecting him to want to fondle her breasts. Anyway, her pants were already down. Showing her tits was nothing to worry about, she comforted herself.
