CHAPTER SEVEN

SOCCER—CHAPTER SEVEN

This is subject to all the usual provisos:
Graphic sex follows.
I'm not responsible for you reading this if you are underage.
The contents are purely fiction and all characters are figments of my imagination.
This story is copyrighted and any reproduction requires the explicit consent of the author; i.e. me.
AIDS/HIV and other STD do not exist in my fiction but do in reality-if you attempt to live the lifestyle depicted please take precautions.

"If you lack the maturity to grasp this disclaimer, then under no circumstances read this story without guidance of someone more mature (to quote Deirdre)."

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“Can I see it?”

“Huh?”

I was still half asleep and hadn’t heard Zarah enter the room.

“Can I see it? Yer woodie?”

Without waiting for my reply she lifted the sheets. Her tiny hands opened my fly and released my hard-on. Her fingers stroked its length caressing it like a precious object. For a split second I enjoyed the grope but then I was wide-awake, pulling the sheets back over my body.

“Mmmm,” Zarah smiled admiringly, “It’s a lot bigger than the others I’ve seen. Boys my age such have thin cocks. Yours is long and meaty. Lindy was right that men have real cocks. Yours is good enough to eat for breakfast.”

I shooed her out of the room. I still had this raging hard-on and jerked off. But as I spewed my seed into my cupped hand, I closed my eyes and thought of Zarah.

It was around Easter and we had a heavy schedule of games over the holiday. I was getting some playing time, usually off the bench, backing up the two aging fullbacks on the team. After an indifferent start to the season we were making a push for one of the play-off spots. There were three of us teenagers who were breaking into the first team, and at seventeen I was the youngest. The club’s success was attracting notice and it was rumored that scouts from bigger sides were looking us over for talent.

* * *

A couple of weeks later it happened. It was mid-morning on a Sunday and I was sleeping in. We’d had a tough game the day before which I started, played in ankle deep mud that made it a hard slog. My body ached from the bruises.

Zarah came into the room without knocking. I was awake but dozing, and peeked through my shut eyes. I didn’t know if it was June or her daughter. Zarah was wearing a white singlet and a tight pair of shorts. She bounced onto my narrow bed.

“Wakey, wakey!” she yelled, shaking my shoulders. “It’s my birthday. Where’s me prezzie?”

“Hey I didn’t know. I’ll get you something later.” I pushed her away but she jumped right back into my face.

“I want it now!” she demanded and started kissing my face. I shook my head. “I want it now and I know what I want.”

She was straddling me and ground her torso against my groin. It actually hurt—I’d been ‘accidentally’ kneed during the previous day’s match—but I was also growing hard.

“Come on,” she implored, “I’m fourteen now…

“Your mum… what about your mum?” I protested.

“She’s gone down to the shops. She won’t be back for hours.”

I was hard now and giving in.

“I want your bat in my gift box.” I could tell she’d rehearsed that line. “Now!” she added emphatically.

“Okay.”

I had submitted.

I knew I probably wasn’t going to sleep with June again. Even if she did get drunk again and wanted to. My infatuation with Zarah’s mom had pretty much dried up and I saw June for what she was—a dumpy middle-age woman who wore a hard life. Unlike Zarah who was lithe, vivacious and enthusiastically wanted me. Now.

She peeled off her white vest. The little breasts that she had flashed at me so many times pushed into my face. Eagerly I sucked her nipples. They weren’t fully developed, like a child’s with a small ring of aureole, but the teats instantly grew hard between my teeth.

Zarah gripped my hard-on with both hands, massaging the foreskin. “You feel so big,” she cooed in my ear between kissed.

I found her knees and ran my hands up her thin thighs. They were all bone and almost no flesh. I reached the hem of her shorts and kept going till I felt her briefs. Cotton, with ridges. My fingers got under the elastic and scratched against her thin wiry bush.

“I want you,” she whispered.

She pulled down her shorts and briefs, they were white cotton Marks and Sparks, and they tangled up in my arms. We wrestled to get them off and then she straddled my thighs. She struggled to pull down my pants. I stared at her sex.

It was a bright day and the curtains were open. Every time I had had sex before it was in a shadowy light—the basement in Copenhagen or downstairs in June’s bedroom late at night—but this was full daylight. Zarah’s bush was wispy thin, blonde, barely hiding her sex. Her labia were narrow and barely visible. She was aroused; I knew that instinctively because her lips glowed pink.

She ground her sex against my engorged penis. I lifted it with my hand and pressed the tip against the opening of her slit.

“Yeah,” she oozed and pushed herself onto the point. I thrust up into her. The purple head split her tight dewy lips. I poked harder and her canal engulfed the bulbous head. She was so tight. It was so different from June.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!” Zarah squealed as she impaled herself on the length of my prick. “You’re so big… You’re so big in me.”

Neither of us moved. Zarah’s eyes were welling in pain and I could feel her nails as she gripped my waist.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Yeh,” she whispered. “But it feels good too.”

She lay so her chest was against mine and then started to wiggle her pelvis around my cock, which felt like it was in a vise. I started jabbing my hips back into. Her pubic bone ground against me and the bruising from the day before.

“Let’s try this,” I said, rolling her over onto her back without withdrawing. I got on my knees and lifted her hips to I could easily thrust into her. She was so light I could easily pick her up. She was like one of the rag dolls she kept in her room.

I ran my fingers over her tiny breasts and pinched her nipples. She was wet and, in spite of the tightness, my prick slid in and out of her easily. I started fucking her faster, but I didn’t penetrate all the way, just the top half of my erection probed her tight canal.

“Yeh… yeh… yeh… “ she stuttered with each thrust. Her hands brushed over her bony hips which started pushing back at me. Another inch of penis slipped into her.

“Oh yessss!” she squealed, “God, yehhhhhhh!”

Her chin juddered with the orgasm. I kept fucking and my whole length penetrated. She pulled down on top of her and I kept doing her, missionary style, while her nails clawed my back.

“I’m coming again.”

“Me too.” She was so tight. She was shuddering beneath me and I couldn’t hold back and started gushing into her. I could feel the come squelching into her tight pussy.

I lay on top of, heaving to catch my breath. Her eyes were closed and tears dripped on her cheeks. I brushed them with the back of my hands, softly stroking her face and kissed her thick lips gently.

Slowly I withdrew and lay beside her. I continued to play with her face and she started kissing me back. I ran my hands over the slight curves of her breast and her tousled braids, clearing them off her shoulders. I don’t know how long we lay like that. It was dreamy, post sex time.

Suddenly her mother called her name.

“Oh shit!” Zarah was immediately alert and picked up her clothes and put them on. She ran out the room and down stairs. I got up more slowly and could hear their voices in the stairwell but couldn’t make out the words. It was only while I was pulling up my jeans that I saw the blood on the sheets. Some was also caked on my limp dick.

I didn’t know Zarah was a virgin. She had told me she wasn’t.