I love sucking dick. I love the taste of cock, how it feels in my mouth but most of all, how I can drive a man wild with my lips and tongue.
“Sorry, honey, I was miles away. What were you saying?” I probably shouldn’t be fantasising about cocksucking while walking my teenage son, Oliver, home from practice.
“Mum, I don’t understand why he won’t play me.” It was a familiar lament. Oliver had once again been overlooked for a starting place on his local soccer team.
Most Mums wanted their sons to be happy and by not playing, I knew that Oliver was not. Unlike other parents, however, I’d seen my son in action and knew enough about the game to realise that he had reasonable grounds for complaint.
Unlike other Mums – and certainly other Dads – I was prepared to do something about it.
“You go on ahead, sweetie,” I told Oliver. It was only half a mile to walk home, and he was used to doing it. “I’ll go back and talk to the coach. What’s his name?”
“Rob,” Oliver replied. “You know he almost made it professionally. He’ll only tell you that you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But I do know what I’m talking about,” I replied, smiling to myself at how naive my son was being, although it was best he didn’t know what I was thinking of.
“Whatever.”
“Okay, see you later,” I said, turning to go back to the park where not five minutes earlier it had been a hubbub of noise and activity as various junior teams were put through their paces.
Much quieter now, I spotted Rob as I re-entered the park, nodding politely to a couple walking their dog who lived a few doors down the road. He was joking around with another coach, a bag of balls clutched under his arm.
Early 30s, I reckon. He couldn’t be much older than that, while his short black hair and absence of any facial hair probably made him look a year or two younger than he was. A fit bloke. A touch arrogant, perhaps, but fit.
Now in my early 40s, I reckon I could pass for a thirtysomething too. My mid-length blonde hair, ample bosom, and pretty face had never seen me short of male attention and it wasn’t something I wanted to end any time soon.
“Rob!” I smiled as she called to him.
“Chantelle, is it?” Rob replied.
“My boy’s not happy with not playing. What’s going on?”
Rob explained that while Oliver was a good player, but he could, after all, only field 11 players at a time.
Nonsense. “We both knew he’s good enough. I get you want to get results but surely at this age it’s about having fun. Everybody needs to get a game, don’t you think?”
I could sense he didn’t like that.
“Look, Chantelle, I hear what you’re saying, I really do, but I’m not going to change my line-up because you ask me to. Otherwise, every parent will do it.”
“Not every parent has a case like mine.”
Rob sighed before I continued. “Come on, there must be something I can do to make you change your mind,” I added, winking.
“Okay. Suck my dick and he plays.”
If that’s what it would take, then so be it. It wouldn’t be the first time I had put out to further my family’s ambitions. I nodded. “Works for me.”
“Pick up that bag of balls and head over to the groundsman’s shed,” Rob ordered, gesturing to the small hut that doubled up as a changing room. “I’ll follow in five minutes.” A smart fellow, I realised – he wants to make sure nobody can see us both go in.
I nodded again and moved straight over to the bag of balls, picking them up and marching over to the hut. It didn’t look particularly comfortable or warm, but at least I would be remaining fully clothed.
I sat and waited, playing on my phone and texting Oliver to check he’d got home fine. A few minutes passed before Rob entered and locked the door.
“Is there a towel or cushion or anything here?” I asked. I didn’t fancy kneeling down on the hard floor.
Rob rummaged around in another bag he had slung over his shoulder and pulled out a blue towel. He threw it towards me. Grasping it, I asked, “Are you standing or sitting for this?” There was no point hanging around with pleasantries.
“I’ll stand.”
I shuffled over to where Rob was standing, placing the towel on the floor. Playfully grabbing his crotch, I squeezed gently. “Trousers off, then” I whispered in his ear as I dropped to my knees.
Rob unbuckled his belt and I did the rest, yanking down his trousers and pants in one swift motion. “Please be big,” I thought. I love sucking cock but sucking big dick is the best. I want my mouth filled up.
I was not disappointed. As I leaned upwards I got an eyeful of his long, thick cock as he playfully wiggled his hips, his member swinging gently and slapping me on the face.
“Well, hello, big boy,” I grinned as I wrapped my mouth around the end of his penis and cupped his balls with my hands. It is always worth stroking a man’s ego as much as his penis.
And there was plenty of stroking going on. I alternated between rubbing his cock, licking his shaft, and sucking him off, particularly once I’d got him fully hard. His firm dick almost filled my mouth but he wasn’t quite the biggest dick I’d taken. Thinking about it, I reckon the trucker I once shared a cab with held that honour. His member was enormous, long and thick and I’d nearly bounced off the walls of his truck as he screwed me senseless.
Back to the present, as I worked his cock with my mouth, I could feel him starting to quiver a little, a sure sign I was making him feel good. I love sucking cock and I’m fucking good at it too. I was feeling good too. He had a smooth shaft and it glided effortlessly inside my mouth as I teased him by jabbing my tongue against the tip of his penis.
Thinking about it, and I often allowed myself to reminisce about previous sexual liaisons during sex acts – it helped make the experience more pleasurable, or the time pass quicker – his was possibly the smoothest shaft I’d played with. “I bet it would feel amazing gliding in and out of my pussy,” I thought.
Taking his dick out of my mouth, I slowed things down a little, letting out a little groan or two as I stroked his cock while licking his shaft. “You want to see some ball control?” I winked at Rob.
He nodded and smiled. I’m not sure he liked the pun but he wasn’t letting on. I fed both his balls into my mouth, gagging as I did so. There was just enough room for me to get a decent sucking motion going.
Still wanking his cock as I did so, I closed my eyes. I was enjoying this. The feeling of a man filling my mouth and making him explode with pleasure with my lips and tongue really turns me on. The taste of cum was the only downside, but then I’m never obliged to swallow, am I?
Opening my eyes again, I switched to fondling Rob’s balls and taking his dick back in my mouth. While my son was a natural central midfielder, this was my best position: on my knees, mouth full of dick, hands around a man’s balls, sucking and stroking him to orgasm.
By now, I could feel Rob’s breath on my face, making it clear that the heavier he was breathing, the closer he was to coming. I smiled and looked up at him. Still stroking his dick for all I was worth, I paused.
“Give me your best shot,” I told him. Rob laughed. I locked my eyes on his, pouting as best I could while I sucked hard, squeezed his balls, and used my tongue to jam down hard around the tip of his cock. That was a trick that almost always worked and the more I stimulated the top of his penis with my tongue, the more I could sense him about to lose control.
“Come on,” I thought to myself, as my tongue danced around his cock like a cat on a hot tin roof. “Spunk in my mouth.” He was a fit bloke and his stamina had forced me to go on for longer than I had for a while. I might start flagging before too long and this wasn’t a game of two halves.
Fortunately, my desires were soon met as Rob couldn’t hold on for much longer. With a final writhe of his body, and an enormous sigh, he shot his load. Yes! Finally, I could feel the unmistakable sense of warm cum dripping into my mouth and I tried to avoid grimacing as I swallowed it.
I dropped my head and handed Rob the towel on which I’d been kneeling to wipe himself down as I stood up. My knees were sore, and my arms ached. I could taste nothing but his dick and cum. But it was worth it to get Oliver back in the team.
Rob pulled up his pants and trousers. My work was done. My son would be back on the team, but it would be up to him to stay there.
“If Oliver plays half as well as you suck cock, he’ll be fine,” Rob joked.
I smiled. If he plays half as well as I suck cock he’ll make it a lot further in the game than his coach ever did.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/n085tx/showing_a_soccer_coach_my_ball_control_fm_oral